


Snowed In

by adVENTitiious



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little bit of angst, All Human, Cabin fever ensues, Cas doesn't think he is, Dean is dense sometimes, Destiel - Freeform, Drugs Made Them Do It, M/M, background samifer, haha i promise, obviously..., snowed in fic, some pining perhaps, there's a lot of alcohol though, very little drug usage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:06:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9545903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adVENTitiious/pseuds/adVENTitiious
Summary: Dean is invited to his brother and new husband's vacation home in the mountains for Christmas. That is where he meets Castiel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sedated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedated/gifts).



"Merry Christmas Eve!"

"Hmph," Dean Winchester sniffed grumpily as he let the gas station door swing shut behind him, the bell attached to it jingling insistently. He stomped through black-tinged snow, holding a thin plastic white bag, the six-foot-one sandy blond grimacing, some of the cold stuff seeping inside his leather loafers with each step. "Shoulda worn boots," he grumbled as he slid behind the wheel of his black '67 Impala, his baby.

He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. He mumbled under his breath and cranked up the heat, rubbing red hands together in front of a vent for a few seconds. He'd had to stop to top off his car and to get snacks after a long day of driving. The town was called Silverton, Colorado, and the welcome sign had listed a population of only 531 people.

"Stupid Sam too busy to visit," he said gruffly, and then his voice took on a mocking, uppity tone, "Oh,  _sorry_ , Dean, I don't have time to visit my big  _brother_  for Christmas, I'm too busy kissing my new husband...  _Lucifer_. Why don't you come visit us instead, it'll be fun, we have all these people coming over you don't know, what d'you say? They're Lucifer's family, I think you'll really like them, and  _Luc_  wants to meet you." He sniffed indignantly at the thought of the man he'd only seen in pictures and videos. Handsy. He was  _way_  too handsy, even if they were newly married. "What kinda sick parents name their kid Lucifer?"

Dean threw the bag of snacks in his lap into the empty seat beside him. Sam had failed to mention that all the food being served would be vegan until he was already  _halfway_  across the country. He rested his arm over the back of the bench-style seat as he craned his neck to make sure he wouldn't scratch his car on anything. The gas station was surprisingly busy for such a small town, maybe it was the only one. The annoyingly cheerful lady inside had said something about a huge snow storm that was supposed to hit by nightfall.

He began to back up carefully, his scowl deepening as he glared up at dark, ominous grey clouds covering the mountains in the distance, his destination somewhere in them. "You'd better wait until I leave tomorrow night, kapeesh?"

He stopped and waved on a waiting plow truck, hoping it was going his way. He wasn't in any hurry, the later he got there the less he'd have to mingle. The grumpy blond eased out onto snow-covered roads, and reached over distractedly to turn on the radio. "Just one day and then I'm outta here," he reminded himself, his voice drowned out by Queen.

* * *

 

"Why were a nun, a priest, and God in a bar though?"

Laughter rung out at the question, and dark brows lowered and pinched together.

"It's called a joke, Cas," Lucifer said, squeezing his little brother's shoulder as he passed on his way to the kitchen. "Take your coat off, stay a while. Do you want a drink?"

"If by drink you mean something to inebriate me... then no." Castiel sighed through his nostrils, dipping his chin as easy laughter filled the room again. The whole family was supposed to show up, but so far it was just Lucifer and his husband, and himself. The flight bringing Michael and his wife, Gabriel and his girlfriend, and their father, of course had been delayed in New York because of ice.

He forced a smile and looked back up to meet friendly green eyes. "Have you heard from your brother yet, Sam?"

Sam Winchester, his brother-in-law of now six months, lowered the glass that had been almost to his lips, his expression morphing to one of guilt. "Yeah, he called about an hour ago, he'd just made it into town. He's stopped answering his phone though."

Castiel nodded slightly at that. "If you'd like, I could go out and look for him. The Wilson's have a snowmobile in their garage they offered for us to use if the snow gets too bad, they're only a mile's walk." He started to stand, but a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Ah ah  _ah_ , you won't lose us that easily," Lucifer chided playfully and then more boisterously, "anyway, it looks like the great  _Dean Winchester_  has finally decided to grace us with his presence."

Uncomfortably bright lights flooded the spacious two-story level family room before cutting off. A car door creaked open, then slammed shut and soft curses were barely audible. Castiel swallowed around a lump, blocking out his brother and his husband who were arguing quietly in front of the door.

"Why wouldn't I be nice?" was asked, Lucifer sounding thoroughly scandalized.

"Just promise me. No matter what he says, be  _nice_."

" _Sam_..."

"Promise me."

Then there was a knock.

* * *

 

Dean stood, holding a suitcase in one hand, a single spotlight shining down on him. The ground was covered in a thick pristine blanket of snow all around him, sparkling softly, and fat snowflakes were falling from the sky. The air was clean and crisp, and the sound of his favorite Christmas song, Jingle Bell Rock, had just begun to play inside.

The door opened wide, bringing with it a waft of warm air that smelled of cookies and pie. His little brother, who he hadn't seen in almost a year, smiled down at him. " _Dean_ , you made it, it's so good to see you, Merry Christmas!"

"Bah humbug," he said, his rough voice extra low. Then he pulled his brother into a one-armed hug begrudgingly, and as Sam returned the gesture easily with a warm laugh he hadn't heard in too long he added quietly, "good t'see you too, Sammy."

The older Winchester pulled back, stepping inside the oversized cabin when he was waved in, his lips curling slightly in distaste as he took in all the modern furniture. Then his gaze settled on the grinning blond man beside his brother.

"Dean," Sam said, pausing, and a tight smile crossed his features as Lucifer snuck a hand around his waist, slipping his thumb snugly inside the waist of his jeans. "This is my husband, Lucifer."

"It's so good to meet you, Dean," the blond said, his smile growing to show perfectly straight, white teeth. "Sam has told me so much about you."

"Wish I could say the same," Dean said shortly. He squared his shoulders as the guy named Lucifer nestled against Sam's flushed neck instead of responding. He'd almost swear he was trying to make him uncomfortable.

"And Cas," Sam blurted, gently pushing his husband away from his neck as he spoke, "I mean, this is Castiel, Dean, Lucifer's brother. He just got here this morning."

"Hello, Dean Winchester."

Dark blond brows furrowed, and Dean turned to find himself facing a dark-haired guy with bright blue eyes, up close. One brow quirked up slowly, and he glanced down at the small space between them. "Hello... Cas, was it?"

"That is what my friends and family call me," the man replied point blank.

Dean blinked a few times and shifted back on his heels, sniffing indifferently to mask his discomfort at the unsual guy. "Gotcha. Castiel, it is."

The man gave a small nod of approval, his gaze oddly intense, and Dean cleared his throat.

"All right," Sam interrupted, his voice falsely cheerful, "Who's hungry?"

"I'm  _famished_ , I'll help you set the table," Lucifer offered with a sweet smile, receiving a begrudging one in return from Sam. Dean watched in silence as the blond took his little brother's hand and intertwined their fingers before pulling him away and into what he hoped was the kitchen.

"Are they always like that?" he grumbled, mostly to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning.

"No, Lucifer is trying to impress you, Sam's orders."

Dean startled somewhat, having forgotten about the dark-haired guy by his side. His gaze flicked down where the man's shoulder was almost brushing the back of his, and he resisted moving away just barely. "Do you always stand so... close?"

"No, I'm going to go help them," the man replied simply, and then he walked off, leaving Dean in the room by himself. He stood there for a moment, and a voice started singing perfectly on-pitch  _All I Want for Christmas is You_ from the other room, inserting 'Sammy' in place of 'baby' each time.

"You gotta be kidding me."

 


	2. Chapter 2

"So Sam says you're one of the best PI's in the country," Lucifer said before taking a sip from his stemmed glass, leaning back in his high-backed chair. The four of them sat at one end of a table that could easily seat ten. It was black with a smoky frosted top that felt rough to the touch, and a circular chandelier hung in the center with what looked like actual lit candles framing it. The four walls were a greenish black color, and an abstract black and white painting hung on the wall behind Dean.

Dean lifted dark blond brows in a shrug. He picked at his plate with his fork. He'd thought he wouldn't like Lucifer, and now, he knew he didn't like him. He just didn't know what Sam saw in him. "Did he also tell you I've been short one partner ever since he left t'go back to school?" He took a bite of mashed potatoes, ignoring the awkward silence that followed right along with the meatless meat on his plate. He'd need to order something after dinner, hopefully somewhere delivered, because it had started to snow.

"Dean..."

"A PI? Like a private investigator?"

Dean looked up from his plate at the question. Lucifer's brother was staring at him, his plate mostly untouched as well. "Yeah..." he hedged.

"Cas, not right now," Lucifer sighed, and then Sam stood up, his chair scraping loudly across hardwood floors.

"I'm finished, I'll get dessert," Sam said in a tone that had Dean looking away stubbornly and rolling his tongue along his cheek in agitation. He wasn't going to join his little brother in the kitchen so he could lecture him on polite conversation.

"I'll help you," Lucifer said, standing too, and Dean flexed his jaw.

The door that separated the dining room from the kitchen closed softly.

Dean tossed his napkin over his plate and started to stand.

"You've upset Sam."

The sandy blond looked over at Lucifer's brother. "Yeah, that was the plan," he bit out sarcastically, feeling suddenly angry with himself. He hadn't driven all the way from Maine in shitty ass weather just to upset and alienate his brother even more. Why couldn't he have just been nice?

The dark-haired man cocked his head to one side, his expression muddling. "Why would you want to hurt him?"

Dean closed his eyes slowly. "Because I'm a huge asshole, that's why," he said without any patience.

"I see..." There was a pause. "Is this a new development?"

Dean opened his eyes. " _What_?"

Castiel was still staring at him with a look of disappointment that somehow made the sandy blond feel even worse. "Sam told me you were the best person he knew, that you were protective and caring, empathetic and loving, and that you cared about other people more than you did yourself. He said you were like a father to him growing up."

"Shit," Dean cursed under his breath, feeling about two inches tall. He rubbed at his forehead in agitation, not willing to go into the kitchen to apologize, because he was more than a little certain he'd walk in on something he didn't want to see. "Do you think they'll be long?"

"I'm certain of it."

The sound of rustling paper drew Dean's attention, and he watched in confusion as the guy across from him smiled ever so slightly down at his lap. Then Dean found out why when a double cheeseburger came into view as it was lifted from its hiding place.

He watched, his mouth suddenly watering as the man took a large bite.

"I respect my brother," Castiel said carefully around his food, somehow not sounding rude like everyone else who'd ever talked with a mouthful of burger, "but I have an unhealthy urge to eat red meat, and cheeseburgers, well"—he paused, his expression growing more pleased—"these make me very happy."

Dean found himself breaking into a grin despite his best efforts to fight it. "You're a strange bird, Castiel."

The guy took another bite, not seeming to care. "Do you want my second one? I fear I won't have time to finish both."

Dean sat more upright, his interest fully perked. "You got another?"

Castiel looked at him over his half eaten burger. He nodded quite seriously.

Dean fidgeted in his chair slightly, reaching out his right hand eagerly.

The dark-haired guy looked down at wiggling fingers, his brows lowering slowly. He reached out his right, hesitantly placing it in his hand.

Dean felt a laugh shake his chest as he pushed the confused man's hand back gently. "No, the burger, give me the burger, Castiel."

"Oh. Yes."

Dean smiled as he was handed a wrapped burger, and he began to open it quickly, the smell making his stomach gurgle happily. "Man, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope they keep sucking face a few more minutes."

Castiel frowned at that, but he continued to eat, Dean joining him hastily. "Do you have a problem with homosexuals?"

Dean snorted, taking another, larger bite. It was a good burger. "Nah, I don't care who kisses who, or who puts what where," he said around his food, "just don't like it when they do it with my little brother. To me Sam'll always be the little kid who's terrified of clowns and obsessed with dogs."

"Maybe it's because you helped raise him." Dean seemed to think over this, and he gave a shrug and half nod as he took another bite. Castiel chewed in silence for a few beats. "I don't think Sam sees himself the same way you do."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Dean said begrudgingly, and then he popped the last bite into his mouth, wiping his hands off on each other with satisfaction, feeling some better. He lifted his glass of 'vegan' wine, laughing at the thought, and he took a long drink to wash down the burger he'd just massacred, relaxing. Maybe he should just try to relax some. He could avoid interacting with Lucifer too much, mend things with Sam, and if nothing else Lucifer's brother wasn't too bad to hang out with.

"Dean."

Dean looked up with a jerk, the guy's serious voice had caught him off guard every time so far. "Yeah, Castiel...?" He raised blond brows somewhat impatiently.

Castiel waited for him to lift them even higher before saying, "You can call me, Cas."

Dean paused at that. "Why, because we're family now?"

"No, we hold no familial relations, Dean," the guy replied, looking disturbed by the suggestion.

Dean let out a laugh, cleaning his teeth with his tongue, and he nodded thoughtfully before lifting his wine glass. He heard a small thump on the other side of the door behind Castiel, and it wobbled slightly. "Do you drink?" he asked more loudly.

The dark-haired guy frowned. "Do you mean, alcohol?"

Dean nodded, waving his hand around in an impatient manner, his gaze trained on the door. He saw it wobble again but more noticeably. "Do ya?"

Castiel glanced down at his water. "Not wine."

"Me neither," Dean said, setting his empty glass down with a loud thump. "C'mon, let's get outta here. I've got somethin' better."

* * *

Dean pushed the black sleeves of his waffle knit shirt up to his elbows, kicking the door shut behind him. "Have a seat," he said gruffly, waving vaguely as he made his way across the oversized guest room with charcoal hued walls and black hardwood floors. He crouched down in front of his suitcase that was lying on its side in front of a closed closet.

"Sam and Lucifer will come looking for us soon."

Dean let out a clipped laugh, pulling out a bottle of rum. "We better hurry then." He sniffed as he stood, turning, and he stopped suddenly. Castiel was sitting on the floor right where he'd been standing when Dean had told him to grab a seat. "Uh, why don't we sit over there?" he said, nodding his head at a dark red couch that was placed in front of an unlit fireplace. Lucifer was loaded, Dean had quickly gathered. Not just rich, _filthy_ rich.

Castiel blinked, and then he stood up. He walked over and sat on the middle cushion. Dean looked at him for only a second before dropping down to his right, their shoulders touching. He opened the bottle, breaking the seal. "I didn't bring glasses, didn't think I'd be sharing."

He took a drink and then held it out.

"Thank you."

Dean 'hmph'ed' but then he found himself looking over, and he watched in amusement as the guy took the smallest sip imaginable and then his entire body shivered. Then a look of determination crossed his features, and he took a huge drink.

He laughed, clapping him on the back when he began to cough.

* * *

"When I was little, my brothers used to make me dress up in this angel costume we found in the attic. And they'd make me walk around the neighborhood every Valentine's Day with Michael's bow and arrow and tell our neighbors I was cupid."

Dean laughed, his side hurting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much. "How does that answer my question?"

"Well," Castiel said, pausing to blink a few times and regain his train of thought, "one day one of our neighbors, Zachariah, he was a few years older than me—he was out, with his dog—and he sicced it on me. I shot it in the foot with Michael's bow, and they had to amputate it. Does that count?"

Dean started laughing again, and he shook his head. "No, that doesn't count as hunting."

Castiel sighed at that. "I didn't figure."

Dean grinned in bemusement. "That's not a bad thing, Cas."

The dark-haired guy nodded at that, stopping abruptly like it had been a mistake. "You hunted a lot with your father?"

Dean tilted his head to one side, pursing his lips. "Yeah, every season, until he got too sick to hunt. Sam didn't have the stomach for it though. He's a softy."

"It didn't bother you?"

Dean blinked hard. "Well, I didn't like it, but sometimes you gotta do things you don't like, y'know?"

"Yes, I do, if my father had wanted to hunt, I would have gone with him."

The sandy blond looked over, his drinking buddy looking suddenly down.

"Were you and your father close?"

Dean sucked on his teeth, grimacing. "In some ways, I guess," he said gruffly. "You?"

"No." Castiel said nothing for a few beats. "I think... I think I need another drink, Dean."

"S'all gone," Dean said sadly, holding up the bottle as proof, not offering the other two in his bag. He was pretty sure the guy _never_ drank, because he'd only had a few shots worth. Dean, on the other hand...

"No, there's still some," Castiel insisted, reaching out for it.

"Nah, you don't want that it's all backwash, Cas," he said, scrunching up his nose and waving the bottle just out of his reach.

The dark-haired guy stopped in his tracks, his hand still up. Sleepy blue eyes met glazed green.

" _Spit_ ," Dean explained with a lift of dark blond brows.

Castiel's hand fell, landing on Dean's leg. "I know what backwash is."

Dean lowered the bottle to his lap, not seeming to notice the guy's hand on his thigh. "Cool," he said with a shrug. He finished off the bottle himself, and then said, "I could really go for some pie right now."

Castiel nodded at that as he stared at the fireplace. "We should start a fire."

Dean snickered. "Yeah, nothin' like some pie by the fire."

Castiel hummed agreeably. "I wonder if it's Christmas yet."

Dean glanced at his watch. "Nope, two more hours to go." He vaguely heard the sound of footsteps, and they began to grow louder. He groaned, slouching in his seat, his arms stretching out behind him and resting on the back of the couch. "I think we've been found out," he said, but before he could get a response the door opened.

"Dean, have you seen... oh, hey, guys."

Dean didn't look back, just lifted the hand behind Castiel in a small wave. "Sammy."

"He's not in there," was called from further down the hallway.

Dean closed his eyes, scrunching them and his nose up at the grating sound of Sam's husband's voice.

"They're in here," Sam said, his voice oddly neutral.

"Cas?"

Dean felt the hand on his leg lift, and he let his head fall back until he was resting it on the couch.

"Have you been drinking liquor?"

"Yes, Dean and I are imbibing together to speed up the bonding process."

"Are you now...?" Lucifer asked, leaning one shoulder on the frame of the doorway, Sam beside him grimacing slightly. "Well, I just came to tell you that Gabriel and Michael are almost here."


	3. Chapter 3

"You sure you want to drink that?"

Dean answered by taking a sip of the bourbon Lucifer had poured for him. He stood in the living room in front of a two-story stone fireplace. He was studying the pictures atop the mantle. They were all of Sam and Lucifer, hugging, holding hands, kissing, laughing. He took another sip, before pointing at a certain picture with his glass. "You went to Paris?"

Sam sighed, running a hand up into his hair and scrubbing at it. "Dean, is something bothering you?"

Dean snorted into his glass. He looked over to his little brother, the sound of Lucifer playing the piano across the room agitating him. He shot a glance over at Cas, who was sitting on a huge, grey leather sectional alone, staring out the window. He sniffed, taking another sip. "Nothing's bothering me, I'm just enjoying the holidays with my little brother and his new family."

"Dean—"

"I said nothing's wrong," Dean barked, and then he blew a sharp breath out of his nostrils, his hand tightening around the cold glass in his hand. He closed his eyes for a second, regrouping his thoughts. "Really, Sam, I'm good." He bit on his entire upper lip, sucking on it for a second. Then he forced out, "He's, uh, he's a good piano player."

Sam looked surprised, but his shoulders relaxed some, and a disbelieving laugh fell from his lips. He looked over at the sandy blond, smiling some before saying, "Yeah, he really is, you know he trained at Juilliard?"

Dean held back an eye roll. "You two seem pretty happy..." he added, trying hard.

Sam's smile grew, and his attention turned back to Dean. He nodded slightly, his expression appreciative, and Dean felt like a huge sap. "I know he's not what you imagined for me, but underneath, he's a great person."

Dean bit down on his tongue, resisting the urge to respond honestly, and he nodded faintly. He glanced over at the Christmas tree. "Is not decorating a tradition or something?"

"No," Sam said, smiling distractedly when Lucifer began to sing softly. "Cas wanted to wait so everyone could help."

Dean hummed nonchalantly, taking another drink.

"Cas is a lawyer, did you know that?"

Dean shook his head, and he took another drink.

"He's really smart, like, _genius_ smart."

Dean lifted blond brows, still sipping.

"Want more?"

The blond choked on his drink a little. He lowered his glass, his chest hot with bourbon, and his head feeling a little fuzzy. "Yeah, actually, I do." He held out his glass.

Sam sighed, and he took the glass, walking off.

Dean stood there for a few beats, and then his gaze slowly drifted back to the couch and its sole occupant. Castiel lifted a hand in acknowledgment, and Dean found himself trailing over.

"I see you and Sam have made up."

Dean dropped down beside the guy. "Yeah..." he said, and he shot a look out of the windows that the dark-haired guy had been studying for the past thirty minutes, giant snowflakes blurring the view. "Lots of snow," he offered.

Castiel sighed. "Yes," he agreed, sounding unhappy over it.

Dean hummed. "So Sam says you're a lawyer."

"Sam is correct," Castiel responded distractedly, once more staring out the window. He seemed to think for a moment. "Dean, can I ask you a personal question?"

Dean shot a look around, just taking notice they were the only ones in the room, Lucifer no longer at the piano. "Shoot," he said, despite feeling suddenly awkward.

"Do you like me?"

Dean leaned back in his seat, brows lifting, and he laughed. "What? Yeah, you're cool."

"I'm cool..." Castiel repeated his words slowly as if he were trying to make sense of them.

Dean cleared his throat, shrugging. "Yeah, I mean," he said, his rough voice slightly higher-pitched than he wanted, "we could be friends, if y'wanted."

Castiel turned away from the window, and Dean realized just then how close they were as serious blue eyes stared into his slightly widened green. "I would like that a lot. Would you?" he said.

Dean breathed a laugh, and he resisted shifting away. "Yeah, _friends_ it is," he said, feigning nonchalance, his heart suddenly beating hard inside his chest for some reason. He sniffed, looking back out the window. He nodded at it with his chin. "Watching for your brothers?"

"Yes. I'm worried the roads are too bad. They're late. Michael is never late."

Dean nodded at that. "Lucifer doesn't seem too worried."

"We all express ourselves differently," the dark-haired guy said solemnly, "to an extent, we're a product of our environment, and Lucifer was raised much differently than I was."

"Hm." Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. He sat quietly with him then, watching the snow. He felt the cushion beneath him dip suddenly, and he looked over to find Castiel taking off the tan trench coat he'd been wearing ever since they'd met. He wore a short-sleeved, fitted blue t-shirt beneath, and Dean found himself noticing his spiked-up black hair that seemed a contradiction to his serious attitude. He swallowed around a sudden lump.

"Someone's here." Castiel stood up, and then Sam and Lucifer were walking into the room.

"Here you go," Sam said as he stopped by his side. The front door swung open.

"Cas!" Dean watched as a dark-haired guy with a shit-eating grin pulled Cas into an exuberant hug, the unknown guy laughing when Cas stiffened under the touch. "Hey, little brother, long time no see!"

" _Cassy_ ," was said in a teasing voice, and then another person was hugging the dark-haired, blue-eyed guy, and Dean couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. This guy had dark blond hair and was shorter than Cas. He reached up and ruffled his hair like he wasn't inches taller. "Look how much he's _grown_ , Michael," he cooed.

"Hello, Michael, Gabriel," Castiel said, his face a little red.

"Well, look at this place, guess all that money laundering has paid off," the shorter blond said, grinning widely as he approached a noticeably tense Lucifer. "Luce, bet you thought you'd finally off'ed us, didn't you?"

Dean frowned, dark blond brows lowering, and Sam beside him seemed equally disturbed.

"I did, unfortunately I was wrong," Lucifer said, his expression wry. Then he and the guy hugged with a laugh. "Gabe, you little shit."

The dark-haired guy casually glanced at Lucifer before turning his attention to the two Winchesters. He studied them with a cool gaze, then he slowly broke into a cheshire grin, and he sauntered towards them.

"You must be Sam, I'm Michael," the guy said coolly, reaching out a hand to Sam, but before he had time to respond he continued, "and you must be his brother, Dean."

Dean hid his surprise. "Ah, yeah, Dean Winchester," he said, shaking the guy's cold hand when he offered it.

"It's a pleasure," he said, his gaze not quite as intense as Castiel's but close. "Luce," he called over his shoulder, still holding Dean's hand, "he's not feminine at all, why would you lie to me?"

Green eyes widened.

"Michael, how I've missed you," Lucifer said, appearing unapologetic, as he trailed over, and he snaked a hand around Sam's waist, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Merry Christmas, Samuel, it's midnight," he murmured.

Dean pulled his hand from the guy Michael's grip, and he took a step back. He took a gulp from his glass.

"So you're _Dean Winchester_ , huh?" the blond asked, wiggling his brows as he pulled a visibly uncomfortable Cas along with him, his arm up around his younger brother's shoulders. "I heard you had a nice chin, but _wow_ , look at that dimple, it'd give Adonis a run for his money."

Dean blinked slowly.

"Gabriel, _please_ ," Castiel mumbled.

"Yes, keep it in your pants," Lucifer said against Sam's cheek.

"I'm getting a drink. Gabe?"

"Michael, I'm hurt you even have to ask." The blond laughed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Kali and Mia will be _so_ disappointed they didn't come," Gabriel drawled, holding a glass of red wine in one hand, the other sprawled out along the back of the sofa. He sat, with his white socked-covered feet on the glass coffee table, and Michael was sitting beside him nursing a tall glass of liquor and coke. "They were all like, it's _dangerous_ there's a _reason_ no planes are leaving here tonight, guys. But Michael and I just couldn't bear the thought of not meeting you, Sam, so we chartered a private flight anyway."

Sam sat perpendicular to the two men on the other side of the sectional, Lucifer's arm around his shoulders. He took a moment, looking a combination of confused and uncomfortable. "Ah, well, you guys didn't have to do that, we could've met another time, I'm sure."

Gabriel stared at him, and Michael scoffed into his drink. Sam leaned back, frowning slightly, and Lucifer laughed silently before whispering something into his ear.

"Do they always get along so well?" Dean asked wryly as he passed off the roll of multi-color Christmas lights in his hand to Cas. They had somehow been elected to decorate Sam and Lucifer's tree. Okay, that wasn't entirely true. No one but Sam had been willing to help Cas, and Dean had felt bad when he'd seen the look—that could only really be described as pure desolation—painted all over the guy's face. So he'd offered too... then his little brother had backed out, the little crap.

"No, they're making progress," Castiel said dully, running the strand around his half of the tree before handing it back off.

Dean shrugged dark blond brows, and he carefully set the lights along the next row of branches. They only had two feet to go. He cleared his throat, looking over at his decorating partner. "You like to do this?" he asked, handing him the shrinking line of lights.

Castiel sighed, and he studied his work. "I like to have it done. I thought it would be nice if we could all work on it together." He handed Dean the lights. "We used to decorate it together, before..."

Dean chewed on the corner of the inside of his lip as he hung more lights. "Before?" he asked, nonchalant.

Castiel took the twinkling lights, holding them, and they brightened and dimmed red, green, blue, pink and orange around his fist. He turned to Dean and away from his family and Sam. "Before my father left. It was a very dark time for my family."

Dean nodded unsurely. "Oh, sorry."

Castiel pressed his lips together in a straight thin line before saying. "He had said he'd come to this, I think it's the only reason everyone showed up honestly." Deep blue eyes lifted. "I'm sorry, this isn't very festive, is it?"

"Don't worry about it," Dean said, shrugging one shoulder, "there's nothing more festive than family issues." He shot the guy a crooked smile then. "Come on, we're almost finished, we need to get those ornaments up before the old fat guy gets here."

Castiel nodded dutifully, and he began to work again. "You know I don't believe in Santa Claus."

Dean felt a laugh shake his chest. "Next you'll be telling me you don't believe in the Easter bunny."

"No," Castiel said, handing Dean the lights, but he didn't let go right away, their fingertips touching, "I would never be so sacrilegious."

Dean stood there for a few beats, and then laughter began to shake his chest again. "Cas, was that a _joke_?" He took the lights, stretching to drape the end of them up around the top of the eight foot tree. He laughed more as he looked down at the guy. He sniffed when he realized he was being stared at, and the thumping organ inside his chest began to act up on him again. He cleared his throat.

"I would never dream of it," the guy said point blank, and Dean found himself fighting a grin at that.

"Hey, Lovebirds, the tree looks great," was called over lazily.

Dean looked up in surprise to find Gabriel grinning at them suggestively.

Sam broke out into laughter, and then Gabriel winked at them before turning his attention back to his wine.

"Here."

Dean looked down, a wooden angel ornament in his hand. "Uh..."

"It's tradition for the guest to hang the first ornament."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Dean said, and he searched the limbs for a good spot.

"Right there would be good," Cas offered, leaning towards him, their shoulders brushing, as he pointed to a higher, shorter limb between them.

"Hey now," Dean said, brows lifting with meaning, "is this my choice or not?"

"Sorry."

Dean hummed seriously, crossing his arms and rocking back onto his heels and then up onto his toes a few times. "Yeah, that's a good spot," he said finally, smiling as he hung the angel ornament, finding he was actually enjoying himself. "That's a nice ornament," he offered.

"Thank you, it's mine, my mom made it for my first Christmas," Castiel said.

Dean felt an odd tightness in his throat, and he looked down at the large box of ornaments, crouching down and grabbing up a few more, and he began to hang them without saying anything. He hung a glass star and a couple more angels, which, considering all their names it shouldn't have been all that surprising, but he still found it a little strange.

"Who's tougher, you or Dean?" The words carried over to Dean's ears.

"Ah, well..."

"I'm going to say Dean," Michael's voice rung out dryly, "in fact, I bet he and I could take you two."

"What about me?"

"You're too short to count, Gabe," was Lucifer's response, and then, "Michael, it wouldn't matter who you had on your side, you'd lose no matter what."

"Oh ho _ho_ ," Gabe laughed, sounding excited.

"Is that a threat, Luce?"

"Maybe it is, you come into _my house and_ —"

"Careful, you're starting to sound like dad," was growled suddenly.

"Do you want to take a break?"

Dean started. He focused on the guy by his side. "What?"

"Pie," Castiel said simply, his jaw tensing when Michael stood up only to have Lucifer join him instantly, and Gabriel jump between them. "Do you want some pie?"

* * *

"This is really good, like _really good pie_ , Cas," Dean groaned appreciatively, taking another huge bite of the chocolate dessert the guy had evidently baked that morning. "I mean, I could eat this everyday," he said around a mouthful.

Castiel sat on the barstool beside him at a white marble countertop, eating a slice too. The cabinets in the kitchen matched the counters, the walls were black, and the appliances silver. A carton of vanilla, almond-based ice cream still lay open between them. "I'm glad you like it," he said quietly, taking a bite to the sound of elevated shouting and what sounded like a glass falling and breaking. "Do you think we should go get Sam?" he asked, sounding even more subdued.

Dean hummed before taking another bite. "Nah, he's a big boy, plus... I don't wanna share any of this pie." He grinned as he took another bite, glancing at the clock on the gourmet gas stovetop. It read 2:00 AM. "S'late," he said unhelpfully.

"MmHm." Castiel shifted in his seat before saying, "Michael is going to be unpleasant tonight."

Dean stopped, his fork halfway to his mouth, and remembered Sam saying the dark-haired prick and Cas were bunking together. "Hey, uh... you could always stay with me if you want."

Castiel said nothing, not looking up from his plate.

"I mean, I have the couch—you don't have to, I was just offering—"

"Yes."

Dean blinked a few times. "Huh?"

Castiel turned to him, and he smiled tiredly. "I'd like that, thank you, Dean."


	5. Chapter 5

"Yeah, so, you can just crash there tonight," Dean said, pointing at the sofa with a sniff.

The tall blond shut the door behind him, rolling his tongue idly along the inside of his cheek as he watched Cas walk over obediently to the red piece of furniture. He hesitated only for a second before flicking the light off, leaving the large bedroom bathed in only the small amount of lights sneaking through the windows reflecting off fat snowflakes still stubbornly falling.

Dean made his way over to his temporary bed when the dark-haired guy sat down stiffly on the edge of a couch cushion. He turned away, reaching his hands over his head to tug the back of his shirt up and off. He dropped it on the floor tiredly, and then he set to work on his pants. "You need a pillow and blanket?" he asked over his shoulder, kicking out of his jeans.

"Yes, thank you."

Dean half jumped, half spun around. "Damnit, Cas," he breathed, his pulse racing with adrenaline. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" the guy asked, furrowing pitch-dark brows.

Dean rubbed a hand back and forth over his hair roughly, feeling uncomfortable. "Don't sneak up on me," he huffed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Cas replied, and then his gaze drifted down, sweeping over Dean's state of undress. "Is it because you feel uncomfortable undressed around me?"

" _Yes_ ," Dean snapped, then gruffly, "I mean _no_ , no, that's not why at all. Just, I just"—the blond struggled—"it's just weird, okay? I don't like it."

Cas nodded slowly. "Okay, I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

Dean let out a heavy breath, and he felt suddenly guilty when the guy dipped his chin and began to turn away. " _Hey_ ," he said, grabbing onto the guy's arm carefully, stopping him, "it's no big deal, don't worry about it. Lemme get you some stuff." He turned away, grabbing two pillows off his bed, then he pulled off the comforter too, leaving just the sheets. "Here," he said, offering out the bedding filling his arms, "I get hot when I sleep."

Cas took the blanket and pillows, holding them awkwardly. "Thank you, Dean... I feel, I feel like I should share something with you..."

Dean blinked once, his mouth slightly hanging open. "Yeah?"

Cas pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose. "Dean. I'm gay."

Dean's mouth hung open more widely.

"I understand if that bothers you, but I thought you should know."

Dean blinked a few times, snapping his mouth shut, his throat suddenly dry as he struggled to swallow. "Oh, ah, that's cool..."

Castiel said nothing, and he remained rooted in place, just feet away for some reason. "I feel it's customary now for you to clarify. That is, if you don't mind."

Dean felt like he wanted to run away as he nodded with raised brows. "Uh, right..." He tried to clear his throat. He glanced around the dark room, and he wished that he was more drunk. Had he brought this on? Was this his fault? Why was he suddenly so worried about answering such a simple question? Did it matter, he barely knew him. "Listen, Cas." He cleared his throat again, choking some on the simple action. "Listen."

"I'm listening."

Dean pressed his lips together between his teeth hard. "I'm not gay," he blurted.

"Oh." Castiel took a step back.

"I mean, I just _am_ , I like who I like, y'know?" Dean ignored the tightness in his chest, because he needed to explain better than he was; he didn't want to mislead the guy. "It doesn't matter to me. Guy. Girl. _Whatever_. As long as I like them it's cool. It's all cool."

The dark-haired guy seemed to pause at that, and then as if something had clicked his lips tugged up suspiciously the slightest bit on the left side only. "Cool, yes. I understand."

Dean's brows pulled down, and he studied the guy a little closer, surprised by his reaction. Maybe he had read him wrong, though, he'd been pretty sure... "So... we're good?" he asked, turning his head some to study Cas not straight on.

"Yes, we are good, Dean," Castiel said, sounding content with the conversation, and then he turned away without another word, leaving the blond by his bed alone.

Dean frowned some as he pulled black sheets down. He should be happy Cas had understood so clearly, he _was_ happy, because he _didn't_ like Cas, not like that, he just liked him... but not like that. His lips pursed as he sucked on his front teeth as he thought over it again, and then he heard footsteps that sounded too loud approaching.

"Dean, so you know, I'm walking _towards_ you."

The blond rolled green eyes, puffing out an agitated breath as he straightened back up, turning. "Cas, don't be a smarta—"

Lips were pressed to his, and they were soft and gentle and warm, but before he could respond in any way they were gone. He tried to speak but all that came out was a strange, cracked noise. Bright blue eyes studied him intently in the dark, and he finally managed to croak out, his blood racing and mind following suit, "What was that for?"

"I thought I should tell you that too."

* * *

Dean woke with a groan, green eyes behind sleepy lids pinching tight, his pulse thumping in his ears. "Shit," he mumbled, rolling onto his side, his mind stubbornly refusing to process anything as it swam around in his head. He let out another, louder groan, and he realized why he'd woken in the first place when his ears started to work.

There were heavy knocks on his door. "Dean?" was called through it. "Dean, are you awake?"

Dean grumbled, scrubbing at his face. "Yeah, come in," he said grumpily. The door swung open, and the blond grimaced as he sat up, his head pounding.

"Hey, I just wanted to—"

"Shh," Dean said, grimacing more, "I have a killer headache and Cas is sleeping."

Sam stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide, and they moved off Dean to scan the room, stopping on the couch. "Oh, uh, looks like he's gone already," he said but not as loudly. His brother walked further into the room, and he scrubbed a hand over his hair yawning, regretting it almost immediately.

"You need some tylenol?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean laughed silently at that, the question oddly funny for whatever reason. "Nah, I've got some."

"Right. Well. Uh, I know this might sound stupid..."

Dean frowned then, looking up at his brother. He lifted dark blond brows when nothing followed, a funny feeling crawling inside his chest. "Lay it on me," he said, nonchalantly.

Sam nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants. "Well, we're getting ready for breakfast and were going to exchange gifts afterward. I was wondering if you wanted to join us."

Dean held back a groan and shot his little brother the most convincing grin he could muster. "Sure, Sammy, sounds great."

The sandy blond took a moment to gather himself and then slid his feet over the edge of the bed and onto the cold floor. He hissed in a breath as he walked over to his suitcase, grabbing out an outfit.

"So... Cas stayed with you last night?"

"Yup." Dean pulled a white t-shirt over his head, then he stepped into a pair of grey slacks.

"I didn't know you two would click so well..."

"Shut it." Dean walked past his brother, who was sitting on his bed, laughing. He stopped at the nightstand, picking up his phone and watch. "Cas is fun." He defended the dark-haired guy, and he was; Dean really enjoyed his company, more than he'd enjoyed anyone's of late if he was thinking about it, not that he was—

"Yeah, he is," Sam said agreeably, "I just didn't think he'd like you that much."

Dean fastened his watch. "That's it, no gift for you."

Sam started laughing again. "No, I just mean, Cas doesn't really like _anyone_ , he just kinda tolerates people. I think it's great you guys like each other."

Dean turned his gaze on Sam, his expression pointed. "We're friends, Sam. That's it."

His brother held up both hands, the gesture appeasing. "Okay. Sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

"Pancake, Deano?"

"Sure, thanks, Luce," Dean said dryly. He took a sip of his coffee, the person's presence by his side felt keenly. He sat, once more, in Lucifer and _Sam_ 's kitchen at the bar. Lucifer was cooking, and Sam seemed to just be keeping him company as far as Dean could tell. He shook his head, not sure if he would ever get used to the idea of his little brother being married, particularly to the blond man. There was something not right about the guy. An artist, and a vegan... it all sounded like Sam's perfect match... but something felt wrong.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," Lucifer said, pulling Dean from his musings, wishing his little brother the sentiment for the _umpteenth_ time that morning. The blond man turned to Sam, poking the tip of his nose, eliciting a laugh. " _Boop_."

"Good God," Dean breathed. A pancake dropped onto his plate a second later, and he grunted a thanks, eyeing it dubiously. It didn't look _vegan_ per se. He poked it with his butter knife.

"They're not bad," was said in a low gruff voice, "the pancakes."

"Ah," Dean said smoothly, and he picked up his fork, finally chancing a glance over at the guy who'd been sitting beside him. Castiel wore a slate grey hoodie and red sweatpants, there were dark purple half-circles under his eyes. "Feeling rough?" he asked, grimacing somewhat.

"Yeah, I didn't get much sleep." He still hadn't looked up.

Dean poured syrup over his pancake. He took a large bite, happy for some food after all the alcohol he'd had, he still felt a little tipsy. He glanced over at the guy again as he took another bite, blond brows lifting on their own. He hummed internally. "Couch wasn't cozy?" he persisted.

Castiel looked up finally. "It was sufficient, sometimes I just can't sleep." With that, the guy stood up and left.

Dean sat there, rolling his tongue along his cheek as he thought. Was Cas mad at him over something? Had he done something to be mad about? He thought back to the night. Cas had told him he was gay, then Dean had told him his situation... then Cas had kissed him.

He stared down blindly at his plate as he chewed. He hadn't kissed him back, and the only response he had really given—if he was being completely honest—was a startled look. He hadn't thought the guy had it in him to be so forward. He'd been wrong, and it had shaken him up. He was a private investigator for christ's sake, and he'd been blindsided by the guy. He couldn't read him at all, and he was admittedly very attracted to him, liked his company, but he _couldn't_ read him for shit. And then there was of course his main hang up regarding the guy, he was a _really_ good person, the type of guy who'd always be the designated driver for every party, the guy who'd be the first on every new parents' list for possible godparent, he was a saint, an _angel_ in comparison to Dean. " _Fuck_."

"Problems?"

Dean felt a hovering body, and he slowly turned green eyes up to meet pale blue. "Huh?"

Michael smiled down at him winningly as he slid into the seat Cas had been sitting in just minutes before. "I'll take an egg white omelet, extra cheese, extra bacon, Luce," he said in a cool voice, receiving a ' _fuck you_ ' in response; then his voice notably warmed as he spoke again to Dean in a private tone, the guy leaning his shoulder towards his, "It's good to see you again, Dean. Merry Christmas."

"Uh, yeah, you too," Dean said, his shoulders and upper back tensing. Was he actually—

"I'm so sorry Cas imposed himself on you last night," Michael said in a solicitous manner, and then a smile crawled up his lips. "If you need somewhere to crash tonight, feel free to find me."

The kitchen grew suddenly quiet. Dean didn't know if everyone had heard, or if their whispering had just tipped them off. He tamped down the sudden anger welling in his chest, and he pushed his chair back loudly, standing up. "Thanks, Lucifer, pancakes were good," he said, feeling suddenly generous towards the blond.

Dean left the kitchen, and he turned the corner to run straight into a solid body.

"Woah, someone's in a hurry."

Dean found himself glaring at Gabriel. "If you hit on me, I'm going t'fucking deck you."

The blond didn't respond at first, blond brows arching some, and then the guy chomped down on a piece of gum, and his expression slowly grew into a curious amusement. "I wasn't planning on it..."

Dean huffed a breath, and his anger began to ebb. "Yeah, well, _good_ ," he said, and then he pushed around the guy without any further explanation. He made his way for the staircase.

"Hey Dean, wait!"

Dean ground his teeth together, freezing on the first step. He turned back around to face an upset looking Sam.

"You leavin'?"

The sandy blond blinked slowly, and he held in a groan. "Nah," he lied, "just grabbin' your gift."

Sam studied him for a few beats, and then he nodded hesitantly. "Right." He glanced behind him and then made his way over to his older brother. He stopped by the stairway, leaning on it as he studied him some more.

Dean rolled his eyes. "What?" he grunted.

"You upset about something?" Sam asked, dark brows furrowing, and Dean fidgeted in place. "You seem... off."

"Nope, I'm dandy." Dean gave a closed mouth smile.

Sam shot him a look of disbelief.

"I'm fucking _fantastic_ , Sammy, no worries," he said, "I'm gonna go grab your present now."

"Okay... but if there was something—"

"There's not," Dean called back, stomping up the stairs.

* * *

"Luce, you _shouldn't have_ ," Gabriel said, sounding actually very excited. He held a brand new, professional camcorder in his hand, studying it like it was the holy grail. "I'll be able to make the _highest_ quality porn videos with this."

"Thank Sam, he picked it out," Lucifer drawled lazily. The blond was sitting on the couch with Sam, one arm draped around him. There were numerous opened presents surrounding them, most of them Sam's.

Michael and Gabriel were seated next to each other.

"It's... empty." Michael stared down into a large box.

Lucifer giggled at that, his free hand coming up to rub at his scruff. "I know."

Dean sat at a chair by the windows, by himself. He hadn't seen Cas since breakfast.

"A _puppy_?" Sam shouted, and Dean's head swiveled back. Sam's eyes were wide as he lifted a small, chubby, tan and black puppy from a green box. "Is it, a Rottweiler?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"Yes, I know how much you like them, Luci told me," Michael said with a huge grin, ignoring the dark looks he was garnering from said brother. "His breeder fed him an all raw meat diet. I brought a week's worth for you, will that be a... problem?"

"No, of course not, dogs are carnivores, they need meat," Sam said as he lifted the puppy close to his face, and it began to give him small kisses on his chin. "Luce, is this, is this okay, I mean, can we keep it?" Sam asked, sounding like he might hyperventilate.

Dean watched Lucifer struggle, but then Sam looked at him, and he plastered a smile on his face that Dean knew well. "Of course we'll keep it," the blond man said, reaching out a hand and scratching the top of the wiggling puppy's head. "Thanks, Mikey, I owe you one. One question, how have you kept it hidden until now?"

"Oh, _lots_ of benadryl," Gabriel offered with a laugh.

Sam made an odd choking noise, and he stood up with the tiny puppy. "I think I'm going to get him some water," he said, lifting his brows with purpose, and Lucifer sighed and stood up, joining him.

"He's going to murder you for that, y'know," was said quietly and less playfully once they were gone.

"That's why I don't give him my actual address, Gabe, you'd be wise to do the same."

Dean furrowed blond brows at the odd exchange, but then they grew more quiet until he couldn't make the words out anymore. He leaned forward some, straining his hearing when movement outside the window caught his attention. He stood up abruptly. " _Cas_?" He hurried towards the front door.

Dean opened the door, his eyes widening as he took in the foot and a half of snow that hadn't been there the night before. He cursed, grabbing a pair of tall boots by the door he hoped were Sam's, and he pulled them on quickly before carefully wading out into the covered parking lot. "Cas, what are you doing?"

"I'm clearing a path for my car, Dean," the man said simply, a large red snow shovel in his hands. He began to work again, snow falling rapidly as he worked, undermining his progress.

"What for?" Dean asked as he struggled to make it over to him. "You're not leaving are you?"

The dark-haired guy stopped at that, and he turned to Dean, his expression unhappy. "Yes, that is the plan."

Dean felt an odd twinge in his chest, and he scratched at it. "But why? It's still early, everyone will be upset if you go."

"Who?"

Dean blinked. "Huh?"

"Who is everyone?" Cas asked, his voice suddenly more sharp. "Because if you're talking about my brothers, you are wrong." He began to shovel again, working hard to clear the snow hugging his back left tire. "They don't even treat me like a real person, they act like I'm beneath them, they argue and bicker nonstop, and I have no say over _anything_."

Dean felt a shiver threaten to shake him, and he realized he was standing out in the freezing weather in just a t-shirt and pants. "Well, what about me and Sam?" he asked stubbornly. "Don't we count?"

Castiel stopped shoveling, and he sighed. He stared down at the ground. "Sam'll be fine, he has Lucifer, and for all Lucifer's... shortcomings, he really cares for your brother."

Dean frowned at that, and he made a mental note to come back to that topic at a later time. "And me?" he asked, and he couldn't help but feel like he was the reason the guy was leaving.

"I figured you'd be relieved," the dark-haired guy said quietly.

Dean said nothing.

"I heard you yell at Gabriel this morning." Serious blue eyes finally met Dean's gaze. "I'm sorry for 'hitting on you' last night," he said, emphasizing the three words Dean had shouted over earlier. "I don't know what overcame me, it wasn't like me."

Dean still said nothing.

"So I'm leaving," the guy said as he set to work once more, "you won't have to see me again."

"Cas..." Dean said, struggling with what he wanted to say. The guy continued to shovel. "Come on, just come back inside. At least wait until it stops snowing, the roads can't be safe right now," he said.

"I'll be fine, I've driven in worse."

Dean eyed him skeptically. "Yeah? Did you drive it in a rental Prius?"

Cas stopped, and Dean held back a victorious grin. "You wouldn't ask me to stay if you knew..."

"Knew what?" Dean asked curiously, taking a step closer.

"What I want to do with you."

Dean froze, and he felt his entire body break out into goosebumps, but not from the cold. "Oh," he said, working to keep his voice even. "Ah, well, that's okay, it's not like you can't control yourself, right?" he asked, laughing weakly at the end, and ignoring how stupid he sounded.

"That's the problem," Cas said, his gruff voice lowering, "I'm not sure if I want to."

Dean held himself in place, despite feeling the urge to back away. He puffed out a cloud of steam as he considered very carefully what he was about to say. Fuck it. "Is that all?"

It was the dark-haired guy's turn to look surprised, dark brows knitting together. "All of what?"

"Is that your only real reason? Because of me?" he said, growing suddenly impatient. "Because, I'm gonna be honest with you here, I don't give a fuck. If you want to kiss me or whatever, it doesn't matter, I still want you t'stay."

"You want me to stay?" Cas asked, his expression suddenly unsure.

Dean breathed a laugh. " _Yes_ , shit, why d'you think I came out here? To make snow angels?"

Castiel smiled somewhat at that. "No. The snow isn't the right consistency for snow angels."

Dean laughed again. "You're damn right it's not. Now come on back inside, I'm freezing my balls off out here."


	7. Chapter 7

" _Shhhh_... this is the best part, it's where she pukes green vomit all over the priest."

"I think he might need to go out again," was whispered despite the warning.

A handful of popcorn was tossed through the air, a couple pieces of it landing on Dean's chest. The sandy blond scooped them up, without looking down, and tossed them into his mouth. He was lying on the floor beside Cas with some pillows and a blanket, the sectional and its occupants on either side of them being more than a little annoying.

" _Ohhh_ , that never gets old," Gabe laughed loudly.

Dean slipped a hand under his head, resting on his palm as he glanced over at Cas, who seemed unsettled. "D'you like this movie?"

"No, but it's a Christmas tradition," the guy explained under his breath.

Dean quirked lips to one side, fighting a grin. "Watching the 'Exorcist' is a Christmas tradition in your family...?" he asked, then a silent laugh shook his chest. "And here I thought Sam and I were dysfunctional."

Castiel hummed agreeably, dark brows pinching together, and his lips twisted in a faint grimace as the screen flashed violently over and over.

"Holy _shit_!" someone shouted with glee.

Dean shifted some closer, his arm pressing against Castiel's, the sandy blond finding himself distracted.

"You're touching me."

Green eyes blinked once. "S'cold."

"Hm."

Dean forced his attention back to the curved screen. It was late, the sun had set hours before. He'd planned on leaving, but it had kept snowing, and there'd been almost three feet of snow outside the last time he'd checked. Not that he was too upset over it at the moment... because he was lying on the floor next to Cas, sharing a blanket with him, watching an old horror movie late Christmas day; and he had to admit, he was pretty happy with it all. He saw Sam and Lucifer stand up out of the corner of his vision, his brother holding their new fur child.

"Hey guys, Crowley needs to go to bed, I think—"

" _Shhhhhh_."

Sam stepped around them, Lucifer stepped over them, and Dean felt Cas shift some closer, leaning more heavily against his arm, his upper leg brushing his too. Dean swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and his blood humming, and he whispered, "Cas, if you wanna stay with me again, that's cool."

Cas nodded faintly. "I think I'm finished with this if you are."

Dean found himself nodding back. "Yeah, let's get outta here."

* * *

 

"Do you like my shirt?" Dean asked hoarsely as fingertips slid lightly over the front of his top. He was standing just inside his room, with Cas backed up against the wall by the door. His chin was dipped down slightly so he could watch the guy's hand run over his top, just barely making contact with his stomach, and his breath was catching in anticipation.

"I do... Dean, I'm somewhat confused," Cas said, still trailing over the guy's shirt. "I don't know what you expect from me."

Dean wet dry lips as he leaned in closer. He pressed them tentatively to the guy's rough jawline. "I want you t'do whatever you're comfortable with." Then more softly. "You feel so good..."

Grabbing hold of the sandy's blond's white t-shirt, Castiel's bright blue eyes slid shut. "I like you, Dean," he said, his low voice extra rough.

Dean nodded faintly in response, the firm grasp on his shirt pulling him closer, and a draft ghosted across the back of his neck, cool on his warm skin; he held back a shiver. "Yeah, same here, Cas." His lips began to migrate along Cas's jaw. He'd accepted that, after realizing how much he hadn't wanted the quiet guy to leave; he liked Cas, even if he'd just met him, and even if it was a terrible idea. Hell, he liked him quite a bit if he had to guess.

"I just—"

Dean's mouth finally reached his lips, covering them, and his right hand trailed up the side of Cas's neck, grasping it and curling a soft lock of dark hair around his pinky as he began to work his lips gently against his. He felt a low hum vibrate nicely against his mouth, then, carefully, he parted his lips—

" _Dean_?" The door swung open, hitting the sandy blond in the shoulder hard. He grunted, holding his place and pushing back against a certain little brother who needed to leave. Cas pulled away from their kiss, and Dean exhaled angrily. "Dean? _Cas_?" Sam persisted.

The light flipped on.

Dean groaned, clenching eyes closed and resting his forehead on the wall just above Cas's shoulder. " _Damnit Sam_ , turn that _off_ ," he growled.

" _Oh_." The light shut off, flooding the room once more with a peaceful darkness. "Sorry..." he said, sounding more hesitant, and he peered around the door, smiling apologetically. "You guys busy?"

" _No_ ," Dean grunted, shooting his brother a hard glare, "not anymore."

Sam lifted dark brows, a look of comprehension crossing his features.

"Is something wrong, Sam?" Castiel asked, his voice perfectly even, giving nothing away. "You look upset."

Sam seemed shocked into silence, but then he blinked a few times, his expression slowly clearing and dropping at the same time. "Oh, uh, yeah, it's nothing I can't handle. I'll be fine, I'll just go."

Dean sighed heavily. " _Sam, stay_." He stepped back from the dark-haired guy, cursing inwardly. He smoothed his shirt and squared his shoulders as he collected himself. Then he raised his chin and sniffed, nonchalant, even as his expression grew more worried. "What's wrong?" he asked more gruffly, noting Sam was holding Crowley and a pillow.

Sam's gaze dropped, his jaw flexing, and he shifted the puppy from one hand to the other when it half yawned half whined. "Lucifer and I had a... a rather big disagreement... can I stay in here with you guys tonight?"

Dean frowned. "A disagreement? You mean a _fight_?" Then his gaze hardened. "What'd he do? Sam, do I need to go—"

" _No_ ," Sam said, shutting the door behind him quietly. "No, Dean, _really_ , I'm fine. I just need somewhere to crash tonight." Then he looked between his brother and Castiel, grimacing somewhat as he scratched behind Crowley's ears to soothe the sleepy puppy. "Is that okay? I don't want to get in the way..."

"Of course you can stay, Sam," Cas said, his low voice certain, concerned. "I hope my brother didn't do anything too upsetting, do you need to talk about it?"

"Thanks Cas, but I don't want to talk about it tonight. I just really need some sleep."

Dean glanced over at the dark-haired guy as he nodded solemnly, and he felt a warmth fill his chest. Sam sighed tiredly in relief and began to walk further into the room. "No, the _couch_ , Sammy," he said, stopping his little brother in his tracks.

Surprised blue eyes met his green, and what looked like a smile threatened the guy's lips.

Dean cleared his throat, realizing he had the full attention of both his brother and Castiel. "Cas can't sleep on the couch," he explained shortly, receiving both a quiet smile and a look of shock in response, the former making something itch inside his chest.

Dean cleared his throat again, scratching at the spot over his shirt, the room oddly silent. "All right. Let's hit the hay, we've got a lotta shoveling t'do tomorrow."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first request for reviews, ahem, pretty please.
> 
> *holds out hand and wiggles fingers politely*


	8. Chapter 8

Dean tilted his head to the side when he felt the lips beneath his part, and he deepened the kiss he'd been pulled into.

A cool hand grazed his cheek, and he shifted closer until his larger body was brushing against Cas's, his tongue stroking his. He inhaled a low rumbling groan, and his pulse began to race as their kiss intensified, fingers skating over too many layers of clothing.

" _Cas_ ," he breathed against the guy's lower lip, and he paused to steady his voice. "We should go inside," he said, _really_ hoping he'd read between the lines.

Cas blinked a few times, and then he nodded slightly. "Yes. There's only the living room, kitchen, and dining room empty right now."

Dean stuck his tongue into his cheek. "Living room it is." He watched Cas turn away, and he followed the dark-haired guy back into the house. He shut the door behind him quietly, then he felt hands on his jacket, unzipping it for him, and he leaned down to meet soft lips again.

His jacket was pushed over his shoulders, and he shook out of it distractedly as they continued to kiss. He felt Cas shift around, pulling off his hoodie. Dean laced his arms around a lean waist, his right thumb sneaking under the guy's shirt, finding heated skin to slide over.

Cas grunted and shoved him back against the door, the tall sandy blond grinning against his lips in response.

"Don't mind me, I'll just watch."

Dean felt lips jerk away from his.

"Lucifer," Cas said, his low, even voice somewhat breathy, "what are you doing down here?"

A lighter flicked on, and Lucifer's face was suddenly illuminated by its flame. He raised the lighter to a cigarette held in the corner of his mouth, and he sucked on it lazily a few times causing its tip to flash a deep red. "Well, _little brother_ ," he finally drawled around his cigarette, flicking off the lighter, "I needed a smoke. I'm sorry... should I leave so you two can _continue_?"

Dean felt heat creep up his neck, and he flexed his hands into fists. He started to speak up when Cas did for him.

"No, that won't be necessary," the dark-haired guy said. Then he paused before saying more slowly, "Why are you smoking again...?"

Lucifer laughed, the sound highly amused, as he exhaled a plume of smoke. "Cas, don't worry about little ol' me."

"Okay," he said simply, but then more seriously. "Just apologize. And mean it. Sam will forgive you." The dark-haired guy walked off abruptly.

Lucifer shot Dean a pointed look, arching blond brows when he didn't follow after Cas. He shrugged and looked away with disinterest.

Dean frowned, looking over to his brother's husband. He inhaled deeply, his frown deepening, something, a memory from an old case, rustling in the recesses of his mind. "You smoke Kamel Reds?" he asked gruffly.

"Wow, you've got _quite_ the sniffer on you," was said dryly.

Dean scowled, trying to place the oddly familiar scent. "Are those vegan?" he asked grumpily. Lucifer rolled his eyes in response, tapping the end of his cigarette into an empty wine glass. Dean's alcohol-saturated mind began to rev up, something clicking, and he eyed the guy more shrewdly. "When did you say you and Sam started seeing each other...?"

Dean watched the man draw in a deep drag, appearing to contemplate over the simple question. "I didn't," the spiky-haired blond said more coolly. Piercing blue eyes met his gaze. "You know, Castiel is a very trusting person"—his cigarette burned red, and then he spoke through his exhale, his tone almost sounding curious to Dean—"you're fortunate Sam thinks so highly of you."

Dean squared his shoulders, stiffening at the statement that reeked of a backwards threat. "Y'know what, I don't buy this whole _Mr. Nice Guy_ vibe you've been throwing at me," he said lowly, his agitation only growing when the guy's only response was to smile widely at him. "And Sam'll wise up soon enough, if you think—"

" _Dean_."

Dean cursed mentally as Sam walked into the room.

"What are you _doing_?" his younger brother asked, shooting a dark look at Lucifer until the blond made a show of stubbing out his cigarette in the glass he'd been using as an ashtray. Sam focused back on Dean. "If you had a problem with Luce, you should've told me—"

" _Right_ , and what good would that've done?" Dean shot back, growing even more agitated as the blond watched them in obvious amusement. "Dad always said you weren't cut out for our line of work, and I told him he was wrong, but you just keep _proving_ him right! Shackin' up! With _this_ guy! What are you _thinking_?"

Sam stood there silently for a few beats, his expression morphing from hurt, to anger before settling on disbelief. He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in resignment. "Well at least I know what you really think of me now."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, regret filling his thoughts. "Sammy... you know I don't—"

"Goodnight, Dean," Sam said curtly, cutting him off. "Luce, I'm going back to our room if you want to join me."

Dean flexed his jaw, gritting his teeth, when the guy jumped up eagerly at the olive branch. He stood there, not moving or responding as his brother and his husband walked off, the suspicious blond whispering affectionately in Sam's ear and wrapping an arm around his little brother.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean scrubbed roughly at blond locks as he pushed open his door with a huff.

"Careful, it's sleeping."

Dean stopped mid-step, catching himself from plowing straight into a small puppy on the floor. "What the?"

"I think Sam forgot him," Cas offered quietly, not looking up. The dark-haired guy sat on the floor in the dark, his legs spread out with the small Rottweiler puppy resting between them. "I assume since he hasn't come back for him he must be busy with Lucifer."

" _Ew_ , Cas," Dean moaned, shutting the door behind him and sighing in frustration. "What are _we_ supposed to do with it?"

"I suppose take care of it until Sam returns," the guy offered matter-of-factly, finally looking up. Dean stopped fidgeting. The dark-haired guy blinked before saying, his low voice less sure, "I'm sorry I left you down there, Dean, I thought you would follow."

Dean ran a hand through his hair with a weary sigh. "Yeah, probably shoulda." Then he sniffed, clearing concerning thoughts for the moment. He chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he watched Castiel pet the sleeping puppy when it whimpered softly. He lifted his chin, refusing to move closer. "What's wrong with it?"

"I think a bad dream," was his response.

"Hm." Dean glanced around the darkened room, resigning himself to watching the little furball for the night, because Cas was probably right; he didn't want to go knocking on Sam and Lucifer's door at that moment. "Well where's it gonna sleep?"

"I can sleep with it on the couch," Cas offered.

Dean frowned, looking down at the guy.

"I know you don't want to sleep with it, it's fine."

Dean fidgeted, grimacing slightly as he struggled with what he wanted more. He held back a groan, and he crouched down finally, eyeing the puppy more closely. It seemed to be sleeping. "Does it need someone t'sleep with it?" he asked gruffly.

"Well, it's only been away from its mom and siblings for two days now. I think it would be lonely by itself."

" _Hmm_." Dean reached out and gently scratched its soft neck, the puppy squirming closer to him but not opening its eyes in the process. "I guess it won't hurt to let it on the bed this once."

Dean looked up when he received no response to find Cas smiling warmly at him, and the itching in his chest returned. He gave the puppy one final scratch, and then he stood back up, stretching. "All right, if you move it, I'll make a spot."

The sandy blond trailed over to the couch. He grabbed the blanket off it, that Sam had been using before he'd _abandoned_ his puppy in his room. "Loves dogs my _ass_ ," he mumbled as he folded it a few times and then dropped it near the foot of the bed in the center. He felt Cas brush his side as he stopped close beside him cradling the tiny sleeping animal, and he motioned at the space. "How's that?"

"I think that's good, let's see," Cas said, and then he carefully lowered the fluffy black and tan puppy onto the folded blanket. It moved some, tucking its nose against its side and then sighed softly, eyes still closed.

"Okay then," Dean said, walking around to his side of the bed. He pulled his shirt off and pushed down his pants without thinking, stepping out of them distractedly, leaving only navy blue boxers on. He glanced over as he began to climb carefully into the bed to find Castiel pulling off his own shirt. The guy's chest and stomach were just visible, the pale light from outside accentuating the lines of his tone body, and Dean pulled the comforter just over his hipbone as he settled on his side to face him.

The dark-haired guy slipped under black sheets too in only a pair of sweatpants, his position mirroring Dean's, Sam's Christmas puppy separating their legs. "Thank you, Dean," he said as he settled, his low voice rumbling smoothly.

"What for?" Dean asked, lifting his pillow and moving it closer as he angled his upper body towards the guy, wishing the puppy was gone already. " _Sam_ should be the one thankin' me for keeping Fido, not you."

Cas said nothing to that, furrowing pitch-dark brows after a few beats. "Are you two fighting?"

Dean exhaled heavily, feeling guilty, because Cas seemed to be okay with most things, but fighting clearly stressed him a lot. "Nah, it's nothing," he lied.

"You don't need to coddle me, Dean, I'm not a child."

Dean felt his lips begin to curl up, and he looked into deep blue eyes, resisting the urge to move in closer. Maybe it was good they'd been distracted downstairs, and they were stuck with Sam's dog for the night. He was leaving tomorrow after all, and he didn't want to hurt Cas; he liked him too much to do that. "Never said you were, Cas," he replied glibly.

The dark-haired guy seemed to think over that, and his gaze dipped. "I'm sorry, I'm being intense."

Dean began to laugh, and he reached out, grasping the side of the guy's face, tilting serious blue eyes back into view. "If that's your intense, then consider me smitten," he teased.

Cas blinked once, and then he said, his low voice hesitant. "You're making a joke?"

Dean grinned as he leaned in closer. "Yeah, a joke," he husked, and then his lips were pressing against Cas's. He felt fingertips touch lightly to his neck, and he coaxed lips apart so he could slip his tongue in, enjoying the simple feeling more than he had in a long time.

* * *

 

"I can't believe what I'm seeing..."

Dean woke slowly, he felt a small furry head press back against him, tickling his neck. Then there was tongue.

He cracked open bloodshot green eyes, Sam's puppy licking the underside of his chin, its little body wiggled until it was pressing against his bare chest. "No, bad dog," he mumbled, leaning his face away from the unwanted kisses.

"Dean, don't confuse him," Sam's voice called out unhappily, and Dean was rewarded with the removal of his furry bedmate.

"I'm not, he needs t'learn I don't want his sloppy kisses," he grumbled back halfheartedly, closing aching eyes, and then he felt another, larger body, one that he didn't mind so close brushing up against his front. He hummed sleepily, wrapping an arm reflexively around the exposed waist in front of him and draping a leg over the still sleeping guy's, tugging him closer. "Go 'way, Sammy, Cas's sleepin'," he murmured against the nape of Castiel's neck just below black locks.

There was a sigh, then the door clicked shut a few seconds later, and Dean grunted a breath as he drifted back to sleep wrapped comfortably around Cas.


	10. Chapter 10

"Well look who's _finally_ decided to join us." Gabriel sat at the white marble bar in the black-painted kitchen with a huge grin, Michael by his side. He was nibbling on a piece of food that looked suspiciously like bacon.

Dean ignored him, walking over to a coffee pot. He and Cas had woken up just a few minutes before, they'd been quite comfortable staying in bed too, until the dark-haired guy's two brothers had begun to spam text him.

"Morning Gabriel. Michael," Castiel said, his tone subdued, as he took the open seat by Gabriel. "Where are Lucifer and Sam?"

"MmHmMm," the guy hummed a giggle in response, and Dean flexed his jaw before taking a sip of black coffee that was surprisingly smooth.

"Better hurry and grab some bacon and eggs before Luci crawls out of his lair," Michael said in a dry tone, lifting a lid off the serving plate in front of him and drawing the sudden attention of both Dean and Cas.

"Oh, thank God," Cas mumbled under his breath, and Dean picked up a plate from the counter, scooping some scrambled eggs as Cas quickly swiped some bacon, then he took a few pieces too.

The sandy blond stood, leaning back against the counter instead of taking the seat by Michael, as he began to dig in. He didn't like the guy, at all, even less than Lucifer, and that was saying a lot.

" _Sooo_ ," Gabriel said, with an obvious smile, pushing his empty plate away and then rubbing his palms together briskly, "what's the plan for today since none of us are leaving?"

Dean stopped chewing, looking back up in puzzlement.

"We're snowed in," Gabriel added, not appearing upset at all, in fact, the _exact_ opposite, "it snowed _two_ more feet last night and Monique, our seductive local weather lady, says there's more on the way."

Dean chewed slowly. "How much more?"

Michael lowered his coffee mug to say, "Enough that we've delayed our return flight a week." He seemed less pleased with the situation.

Dean took another bite as he considered the implications of being stuck there for an entire week, and he found his gaze drifting over to settle on a certain dark-haired guy. Castiel was eating, his expression shrouded with concern.

"So _as_ I was saying," Gabriel started up again, but somehow more enthusiastically, "we need to have a plan to fight off the cabin fever. I say snow forts today. We can climb out the windows still. Thoughts?"

"Snow forts?" Dean asked with a slight frown. "What, like, a snowball fight?"

"Yes, _exactly_ like a snowball fight. It's a bit of a family tradition amongst us," Gabe explained animatedly, leaning his elbows on the counter as he angled his body towards Dean, "you see, you may not have noticed, but we are quite competitive with each other... _some_ of us more than _others_ "—Michael scowled—"so a coordinated, _friendly_ competition is the best way to go."

Michael groaned under his breath, and Cas nodded distractedly, seeming resigned to the proposition. Dean took a sip of coffee.

Steps sounded on the stairway.

" _Shit_." The kitchen was a sudden flurry of excitement as Gabriel swiped up the plates, including the mostly empty serving dish. He was at the sink, scraping off the remnants with the water on full force as Sam and Lucifer walked in. Dean tossed his last piece of bacon into his mouth.

"What smells good?" Sam asked tiredly, shooting Dean a small smile. Dean shot him back a closed mouth one as he chewed.

"Ah, tofurkey bacon and eggless omelets," Gabriel called over his shoulder with a laugh before flipping on the garbage disposal. "Sorry guys, we just made enough, didn't think you'd be down so soon."

* * *

"Damnit, Cas," Dean growled as he pressed back against the tall wall he'd dug out for them, snowballs flying just over his head, "why're your family members all _maniacs_?" He was crouched down behind their not yet finished fort, both Sam and Lucifer's and Gabe and Michael's forts somehow already finished after just thirty minutes. The three forts were placed in a triangular shape. There were seven small flags set up in various locations in the center, some buried, others becoming buried under the onslaught of snowballs. The first team to collect three from the center was the winner.

"Sam and Lucifer are your family too," Cas pointed out as he continued to make snowballs in an annoyingly calm fashion.

" _Bombs away_!"

A flurry of snowballs began to pelt the snowy wall Dean and Cas were leaning against.

"Dean, get _up_ , they're making a run for it!" Sam shouted suddenly.

Dean gave his head a shake, snow flying off in all directions, and he growled to himself. "I hate losing," he seethed. He grabbed some of the snowballs, cradling them in his left arm, and he jumped up. He aimed his throws at a sprinting Michael and Gabriel, pelting them repeatedly, and he found himself almost enjoying the game until he saw Cas take off past him without warning and into the icy crossfire.

"Cas, no!"

* * *

"Cas...?"

A groan slipped from chapped lips. Curses were whispered.

"Cas, can y'hear me?"

Confused blue eyes opened slowly, the expression behind them bleary at best. Dark brows pinched together. "...Dean?"

"Hey, he's awake," Dean called out gruffly before leaning back over his teammate, who was lying flat on his back in the snow, the skin around his left eye an angry red. "Cas, what were you _thinking_?" he asked, frowning. "Running out like that, without being covered? You shoulda told me."

Cas blinked, grimacing at the action, and he nodded faintly as he reached his arms out wide into the snow around him looking confused. "Yes, I—I should have... I am sorry, Dean, I was trying to win." He moved to sit up.

"Hold up, just give yourself a minute," Dean said less sternly, holding his hand on his chest. "Hey, I think we're out of this round guys, I'm going to help him inside." He rolled his eyes when not one of the four guys was willing to come out from hiding. In the mayhem that'd ensued Cas running out unannounced followed by Dean sprinting after him, the game had become a free for all of sorts, with everyone ending up in the middle. The end product being someone hitting Dean's partner in the face... with their fist he was pretty sure, and the other two teams both somehow now had two flags. " _Seriously_ , guys?"

He received only snickers other than Sam calling out, still hiding, "Sorry, Cas, hope you feel better!"

Dean growled as he helped Cas sit up, and he draped the guy's arm around his shoulders, hoisting him onto his feet. "Come on, let's go get somethin' for that shiner."

* * *

"I feel a lot better, thank you," Cas said a few minutes later, as he sat up just enough to set a half-melted ice pack on the nightstand by his head. He settled back down, closing his eyes.

Dean cleared his throat as he watched the guy lie on his bed. He didn't know why, but it felt unsettling seeing him there. He'd brought him there so it wasn't like he didn't want him there, in fact, he _knew_ he wanted him there... maybe that was why.

The sandy blond turned away at the thought, his brows furrowing and thoughts growing more concerning.

"Are you upset we lost?"

"Huh?" Dean shot a confused look over his shoulder.

Cas grimaced as he pushed himself up, his voice scratchy and tired sounding. "We lost, the game."

Dean frowned. "Cas, are you feelin' okay...?"

"No, I have a pounding headache," the guy admitted quietly. He looked up, the skin around his blue eyes pinched. "I am sorry if I let you down."

Dean let out an agitated breath. "Cas, _forget_ about the stupid game. I don't care about it."

The dark-haired guy seemed to think over that, and he nodded finally, looking somehow more disheartened. "Dean... I've been meaning to ask..." He paused.

Dean found himself feeling suddenly uncomfortable at the guy's solemn tone, and he waited for him to continue, something in his chest itching. He ignored it as he ran a hand over short blond hair roughly. "Yeah...?"

"How important is lipstick to you?"

Green eyes blinked. Dean held back a laugh at the unexpected question as he pushed the tip of his tongue into his cheek. He said slowly with raised brows, "Not very."

Castiel nodded quietly. "I mean. Do you prefer women?" He looked up, his gaze unsure. "I am not very womanly, Dean..."

Dean broke out into a laugh. He shook his head as he began to walk closer. " _Cas_ , believe it or not, that's not a surprise t'me."

"No, I mean—"

"I gotcha," Dean said, his voice quiet, as he sat down by him, his hand grasping the back of the guy's neck; and he gently pulled him closer so he could say against his mouth, "I like your lips just how they are."

Cas blinked a few times, his dark eyelashes fluttering in Dean's vision. "You do...?" he asked, his hesitant words puffing warm against Dean's chin.

Dean pressed his lips together, and he nodded faintly, his low voice gruff as he hummed, "MmHm." Then before the dark-haired guy could respond, he covered his mouth with his own, green eyes sliding shut.

* * *

 

Dean pressed Cas back into the bed, shifting his larger frame overtop the dark-haired guy, their bodies brushing against each other in various places and their lips just managing to stay locked in the chaos.

He felt a hand skate slowly down the front of his shirt, and his pulse began to pick up the further down it trailed. " _Mmm_." His chin dipped some, and he hummed appreciatively against Cas's chin when fingertips began to trail back and forth teasingly along the incredibly sensitive skin just above his pants line. " _Cas_ ," he whispered tightly against the guy's rough cheek, the air in his lungs escaping in uneven exhales.

"Can I — can I undo these, Dean?" was asked, the tone behind the quiet words unsure.

Dean nodded jerkily, holding in a pressing exhale as he did, and then the guy's hand began to undo his pants, and when they got stuck around his knees he kicked out of them distractedly. He leaned back down to press his mouth eagerly to the skin beneath the guy's jawline, alternating his lips and tongue, eliciting low gasps that made his thoughts feel light as his body grew somehow even more excited. He hadn't been with anyone in a while, it made sense.

He was palmed gently through his boxers, and he groaned at the sensation, pressing down into the wanted touch. He held a fistful of cool sheets as he held himself up, his free hand sliding up under Cas's shirt, finding smooth, hot skin to caress; and he tried to keep racing thoughts clear.

"Dean, can I take these off too?"

Dean huffed a half laugh half breath, his hand gripping the guy's side. "Shit, Cas, you don't have t'ask." Nothing happened right away so Dean leaned up onto his knees, and he pulled his shirt up over his head first. Then he looked down at the guy, his hands resting on the waist of his boxers as he paused. Cas was watching him closely... still fully dressed.

He wet dry lips, and he blinked a few times. "Maybe we should get you outta some of that first," he said. When Cas nodded seriously he found himself grinning as he leaned back down, undoing the guys pants and then pulling them off carefully, tossing them on the floor. Then he leaned back, resting on his heels as the guy sat up in front of him to tug off his shirt.

The room lit decently well from the morning light peeking through drawn light grey curtains, Dean found himself studying the guy up close, appreciating his nicely muscled body when Cas broke his reverie.

"You are very fit..." Fingertips began to trace Dean's abs.

Dean felt a laugh shake his chest roughly, and he felt a knot begin to form in his stomach as he remembered who he was in bed with, who was touching him. Castiel. _Cas_. He liked the dark-haired guy a lot even if they'd only known each other a couple days now, and he knew him well enough to also know this wasn't something he probably did with just anyone...

"Listen, I don't want this t'mess anything up between us," he said, vocalizing his thoughts before he could stop the ill-advised words.

"Why would it do that?" Cas asked, deep blue eyes suddenly searching, and Dean grimaced slightly.

"Y'know, 'cause we're friends," Dean said, awkwardly, continuing on against his better judgement when dark brows only furrowed at the words, "and if we... _mess around_ , I wouldn't want it t'make things different."

Cas's gaze drifted off, and the guy said slowly, "You're saying, you're attracted to me, but you don't want a commitment, or a relationship..."

Dean blinked rapidly. That was what he'd been trying _not_ to say. Shit. The sandy blond felt a surge of guilt. He ran an agitated hand over his head. "Cas, I..."

"It's okay, Dean," the guy said, his tone more serious, "I understand. That's fine."

Dean struggled to respond, feeling impossibly worse but not sure how to fix it. He barely registered the hand on his face or lips pressing against the side of his neck. He did however fully feel the hand sliding inside the front of his boxers. A groan escaped his lips, his chin falling back and eyes slipping shut. " _Shit_..."

"Don't feel bad, just touch me," was said roughly against his throat.

The sandy blond sucked in a sharp breath, and he nodded jerkily as he finally pushed down his own boxers, a hand that wasn't his own wrapping around him firmly, rough skin touching silky, making his blood race through his veins, goosebumps breaking out all over his body as a cool breath fanned out down his neck and chest.

He swallowed hard, looking down to meet increasingly glazed eyes, as he hesitated. "I like you Cas, I do."

Cas nodded just barely in response, his lips parted and eyelids drooping, and his wild black fringe hanging uncharacteristically low around his bright blue gaze, the serious guy looking more undone than Dean would've thought possible; and the sandy blond felt something twist sharply deep inside his chest even as a surging, distracting emotion began to take over his senses. "I understand," was said, the guy's low voice gruff.

Dean closed his eyes when warm lips began to trail down his torso, heating up his body even more. And he reached out.

" _Dean_..."

* * *

 

Dean tapped a beat out with his fingertips overtop warm skin.

"Life is a Highway...?"

The sandy blond grinned lazily. "That's pretty good," he admitted, settling his open hand on Cas's lower stomach. He lay on his side, one arm up, fingertips brushing a wooden headboard, his other wrapped comfortably around the barely-dressed guy in front of him. He heard Sam's puppy begin to bark excitedly.

"We should probably go downstairs now, they've been inside for a while."

"Hmm." Dean closed his eyes stubbornly and shifted closer to the warm body in front of him instead. "I'd rather stay in here..."

"They will come looking for us."

Dean snorted. "Door's locked."

"My brothers all know how to pick locks."

"I'm not surprised," Dean said under his breath. He sighed heavily then. "I could go for some pie."

"Me too," Cas said, shifting some, but only so that he was resting more snugly against Dean's front. "Dean..."

"Yeah, Cas?" the sandy blond hummed, soft dark hairs tickling his cheek as he shifted impossibly closer.

"Is this what you normally do with friends? I mean, after _messing around_?"

Green eyes opened some. "What?"

"Perhaps this isn't a good idea," Cas said shortly, and Dean frowned, feeling considerably less comfortable as the guy moved away, sitting up. He watched as he leaned over, sitting back up with his clothes. He began to dress quietly.

Dean held back a sigh as he sat up too, rubbing at his bare arm. "Yeah, okay," he said gruffly, not sure how he felt or if he wanted to figure it out, so he refocused his attention to something else. "So, Lucifer," he said casually, scanning the oversized guest room, "he used to be a lawyer?"

"That is what I said," Cas said with no inflection.

Dean grimaced, but he pushed on with an air of nonchalance. "Why was he disbarred?"

Cas stood up, he paused there for a moment before saying in a tired voice, not looking back, "For numerous reasons." Then he walked off and toward the door.


	11. Chapter 11

"Cassy! We thought we'd lost you to a fatal concussion!"

Castiel gave a tight, closed-mouth smile as he was pulled down onto the couch with a giddy Gabriel. Michael was on his other side, grinning at him in a way that made him feel like he'd done something wrong. They were both drinking. "No, I was just upstairs sleeping off a headache," he said, looking down at his hands.

"You know," Michael said more privately, hooking an arm around his neck to pull him closer, and Gabriel giggled, "I saw Lucifer throw that punch at you. Dirty business there, but not surprising... unfortunately."

Castiel said nothing as Michael and Gabriel began to talk around him like he wasn't even there, Michael's arm still heavy around his neck.

"Did you actually see it? I thought you were the closest to his and Dean's fort."

Michael chuckled. "Calling their wall a fort is being a little generous, don't you think?" Michael said, deflecting the question. "Where is Dean anyway?"

Castiel felt his jaw clench as Michael leaned more heavily on him, crowding him.

"Deano?" Gabriel asked curiously, and his buzzed gaze focused on their youngest brother. "Cas would know best. He and Mr. _Winchester_ are rather _close_ according to Luci..."

Castiel blinked once, his teeth biting down hard on lips pressed between them.

"What? Little Cas has a _boyfriend_?" Michael asked, his tone teasing but with a noted air of disbelief. He let out an incredulous laugh, patting his little brother's cheek near bruising skin a little too hard. "I didn't think he had it in him. How'd you pull that?"

"Dean and I are just friends," Castiel said, not joining in when his brothers broke out into laughter again. He waited until they'd quieted to add, "Lucifer was mistaken."

"All he said was that he had an 'unexpected performance' from you two late last night," Gabriel said, his tone probing.

"Maybe he was on something," Michael offered with a grin before taking a sip from his glass, "wouldn't be the first time."

Castiel furrowed dark brows at the insinuation. "No, he wasn't. He saw Dean and I kissing, but we're only friends. Nothing more."

Gabriel didn't join in on Michael's laughing after that. He took a long draw of his drink instead. The dark blond looked outside the window, his lips pursing in distaste. "How much more is it going to snow?"

"At least one more foot," Cas said quietly. Michael's cup waved close in front of him, and he grabbed it, taking it from his older brother. He took a sip, and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Oh, Cas, I wouldn't..." Gabriel trailed off, making a humming noise as Castiel took another, larger drink in response. "Michael, how much was in that?" he asked unsurely when Cas tipped the glass back to finish it off.

"Just a half of one," Michael said under his breath, sounding not so sure himself as he studied their little brother too. "I think he got all of it though, it was all sitting in the bottom..."

Castiel frowned, glancing between his oddly quiet brothers. "All of what?" he asked, tasting his mouth a little more closely. He grimaced when he found something different under the strong flavor of liquor. "What was in this?" he asked, lifting his glass and peering into it.

"Ah, don't worry about it now, Cas," Michael said conspiratorially, pulling him close again. "We're going to have a _blast_."

Gabriel shook his head, but his lips began to curl at the corners, and then a laugh started to shake his chest.

* * *

"Lucifer is going to be so mad at us. He leaves us for a few hours, and we drug the baby," Gabriel said from the floor. The dark blond was on his back, arms and legs stretched as he stared at the ceiling. "The ceiling is too high for blood splatter, no one will ever find our bodies."

Michael snorted at that. "You afraid of Luci? I'm not."

Gabriel fought a bigger smile. "You should be, we _all_ should be, and you know it."

Castiel spoke up, feeling oddly communicative. "Lucifer cares about his family, I think he'd let most things pass with us, barring we don't do anything directly to him or Sam."

"Oh, Cassy the Optimist, so _naïve_ ," Michael said in a sing-songy voice. He was lying on the couch opposite him, stretched out on his side, running his left hand up and down his right arm, like he had been for the past half hour or so... Castiel had lost track of time at some point. "You also believed Mr. _Winchester_ when he said you two were _friends_."

Gabriel began to giggle on the floor, and Michael grinned wickedly, holding Castiel's upside-down gaze. "Sorry, baby brother, it's the _truth_. Hopefully he was at least good."

Castiel focused on the feeling of blood pooling in his head. His socked feet resting on the back of Lucifer's couch. He held out his hand, a certain finger more prominent than the rest.

"Oh-ho-ho, looks like Cas doesn't care for your shit, Mikey," Gabriel said through more laughter. "I can't believe we're stuck here, I need to go home."

"Still snowin'?" The gruffly asked question cut into the brothers' conversation.

"Yes, soon we will all be buried and dead," Gabriel offered solemnly to the new voice.

Michael laughed at that, and Gabriel soon joined in.

Cas blinked, only able to partially make out an upside down Dean... well, right-side up, he supposed, he was upside down not Dean... or was it not about gravity at all and more about perspective, and Dean was—

Crystal clear green eyes, the same direction as his met his gaze. Dean was leaned over. "Cas... you okay?"

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, his heart speeding up and rushing more blood to his brain. It was uncomfortable in a nice way. He breathed in, and the smell of soap and a hint of pine and leather infiltrated his senses. "You smell nice, did you shower recently?"

Chortles and smothered laughter in the background went nicely with Dean's half grin pointed at him. Castiel swallowed, the action difficult with his position. "I think I may pass out soon, so you know. Don't worry."

"How 'bout you sit up instead?" Dean asked, his tone gentle.

Castiel shook his head, feeling the pressure more so with the movement. "No, that would be a waste of effort. Do you know how long I've been lying here?"

"At least an hour," Gabriel supplied helpfully, then he rolled onto his stomach with a loud groan. "I need outta this place..."

"Shut up, Gabe, we're all stuck—"

"Hey." Castiel focused back on Dean's voice, his face; he was staring at him, no, studying him. He was handsome. He wanted to pull him closer, his lips. How did he have such pretty lips? They had felt like soft pillows, soft pillows he wanted to kiss and lick—"Y'still here with me?"

Castiel blinked. Slowly. It wasn't helping anymore. "Maybe sitting up would be best..." He took the offered hand, and soon he was right side up.

"Careful," Dean said, and Castiel realized he was laying on him, stars and blackness filling his vision. "You'll feel better in sec."

"I doubt that," Castiel mumbled into Dean's shirt, but he found he didn't mind the sudden lack of vision or blood pressure, because Dean's shirt felt like butter, no, cake, or butter, no a pillow made of butter and cake.

"What'd you... just say?"

Castiel broke into a grin, burying his face further into Dean's confectionary pillow shirt.

" _Smooth_ , Cas."

He felt hands remove him from his new favorite thing. "Hey, can you open your eyes for me?"

Cas peeked out under heavy lashes. He smiled at Dean, a thumb gently rubbing the skin just below the crook of his elbow. It felt so good.

"You okay?" Green eyes were unusually serious, and Castiel nodded immediately, lying. "You lyin'?"

Castiel shook his head less quickly, his lips pressed together to keep the truth from escaping. Dark brows crawled up slowly when Dean only stared at him more seriously.

The blond ran his tongue along his teeth, and eyed Cas's oddly silent brothers. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, gruffly, focusing on Gabriel, who, while grinning like Michael, looked somewhat abashed. When the guy scrunched his face uncertainly he spoke up more sharply, "What'd he take, does he need a doctor?"

Cas felt Dean's grip soften on him, and he exhaled in relief. He shifted closer and snuck his arms around Dean, enjoying the feel of the blond's body pressed against his more than he could've imagined. He nuzzled into warm skin and hummed, content.

"No one could get here in this weather," Michael said simply.

Dean glared at the dark-haired guy. "What. Did. He. _Take_."

"Just half an ex, he's _fine_ ," Gabriel spoke up before a scowling Michael could respond. "We're watching him, just relax."

"You're _watching_ him?" Dean scoffed. "And who gave him the drugs in the first place?"

"He took it himself, on accident," Michael said coolly. "We wouldn't hurt Castiel on purpose," he said more lazily but his tone pointed.

Dean paused, clearing his throat, just noticing lips grazing his earlobe in a curious gesture. " _Come on_ , Cas," he said darkly, carefully tugging the guy away from his neck and into a standing position as he glared at the guy's two brothers.

Cas held onto Dean's hand as he stumbled along with the blond willingly.

* * *

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, course I'm not," Dean said, frowning as he leaned over to turn on the shower for Cas, "why would I be?" They were both in the bathroom that connected solely to Dean's room.

Cas sat on the floor, his head resting back on the closed door, a folded towel in his lap. He closed his eyes as the sound of rushing water overwhelmed his senses. He was feeling tired, but Dean had insisted sleeping was a bad idea. "I mean, because I slipped and told my brothers about us."

"You did?" Dean's voice sounded like it was quieter.

Cas nodded just barely, and he wet dry lips. "Yes, I'm sorry, Dean, I'm also sorry about what I said regarding your shirt."

"Cas." Blue eyes opened, and Dean was crouched in front of him. Castiel dug his hands into the fluffy towel, distracting them so they wouldn't reach out. "I don't care if you told your brothers about us or if you think my shirt is a buttery cake pillow you want to eat." Blue eyes blinked, and Dean broke into a grin. "You worry too much, come on, let's get you in the shower and wake you up."

Castiel nodded hesitantly, and he took Dean's hand, letting him pull him up, his legs burning in protest. He groaned and leaned against the blond for support. "I'm not sure if this is safe. I might fall," he said, feeling somewhat dizzy.

"Yeah, well concussions don't mix super well with bourbon and ecstasy," Dean said dryly, helping him pull his shirt off when he struggled. Then he added, "I'll help you, let's just get you in your boxers, all right?"

"I, I didn't mean to take ecstasy, just the alcohol," Castiel said as Dean guided his feet out of his sweatpants. Then he watched as Dean pulled his own shirt off in one swift motion before stepping out of his own pants with ease. He closed his eyes when his body responded immediately. A hand grabbing his arm when he swayed, he said more roughly, "This drug is quite potent."

"Yeah, don't worry about it, the water will help."

Cas nodded, and he opened his eyes to step into the glass-encased shower. Warm water pelted his body, and he breathed in a lungful of steam, Dean's hand on his side gently guiding him forward another step so the blond could join him as he closed the door behind him. He didn't turn around as he studied light grey stones that made up the other three walls to the shower, there were lines of marble threaded throughout. "This is a nice shower."

Dean laughed behind him. "Sure is."

Castiel shifted back some when he felt unsteady, and arms wrapped around his waist. He felt Dean rest the side of his face on the back of his head as he stabilized him.

"You doin' okay?"

Castiel nodded slightly, focusing on the sound of thundering water, his eyes tracing the white veins of marble, lungs taking in and expelling thick air, his mind elsewhere. "Yeah, I'm just contemplating."

Dean grinned. "Just contemplating," he said, sounding amused, "about what?"

Castiel sighed, and he placed his hands flat on the shower wall before him, trying harder to distract himself. "On how I'd be a terrible god."

Dean's chest shook against his back. "Why's that?"

Castiel studied his splayed hands. They were getting red from the heat. "When I was little, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel and I would play Simon Says. The one time I was Simon I just kept saying Simon Says before everything so they had to all listen to me and the game wouldn't end."

Dean's laughter became audible.

"I only stopped when Lucifer got sick of it and tackled me." Castiel waited for Dean to stop laughing to say, "Do you see what I'm getting at, Dean?"

"Not really," Dean said, his arms tightening around the dark-haired guy for a second before relaxing. "Why don't you tell me?"

Castiel nodded solemnly. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't make the best decisions in life."

Dean squeezed him again. "Cas, you're not making a lot of sense," he said, his words not judgmental but possibly a little amused. "I think your head isn't too right right now."

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. "I suppose you're right." He felt Dean's arms relax around him, and he felt colder when they were gone. Then hands were on his back, massaging his shoulders. He shifted forward, his forehead leaning on the cool wall as fingers began to knead into tight muscles, and a low groan escaped his lips.

"S'that feel good?"

He nodded against the wall, his body feeling like it was exploding in pleasure over and over. Fingers slowed somewhat, and he realized he was panting.

"Is this too much?"

"No, I'm fine."

Dean hummed, the sound low, and fingers began to rub more gently. Castiel focused on slowing his breath. "So why were you drinkin' at three?"

The dark-haired guy hesitated. "Do I need a reason?"

"Do you have one?" Dean asked back innocently enough.

Castiel chewed on his upper lip. "Possibly..."

"Was it 'cause of me?" was asked when he didn't offer more.

Castiel didn't answer. The hands on his shoulders stopped. He turned around carefully, and his mind blanked unhelpfully as he looked at a soaked Dean. The tall blond's hair was darker wet; it framed his features, piercing green eyes unsure, drops of water tracing down his perfect nose, his dimpled chin more apparent with his full lips parted, and his tan, sculpted chest and stomach were glistening as they rose and fell a little too noticeably. He'd been wrong. Dean wasn't handsome. He was gorgeous. He understood why he just wanted to be friends now. He looked down at the floor. "I feel better now, I'd like to get out."

"Hey, just a sec," Dean said as he stepped forward, cupping the side of Castiel's face. He grazed his thumb gently over rough skin. "What's bothering you?"

Castiel shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay"—blue eyes turned up in surprise, and then they were meeting soft green—"but is it okay if I get a little kiss before we get out? I have to admit, you look pretty tempting in the shower, Cas."

Pitch-dark brows lifted in surprise. "I do?"

Dean nodded, his lips hitching up on one side. "Yeah, it's too bad you're drugged up."

Castiel felt his mouth tug up at the corners. "Indeed." He thought about it for a second. "I would like to kiss you. Even if we are just friends."

Dean paused, blond brows furrowed. "Just friends...?"

"Yes, I am very attracted to you, Dean."

Dean cocked his jaw to the side, his expression muddying more. He drew in a breath to say something, but Cas pulled him down and against his lips.

"Castiel, open this door right now!" was shouted all of a sudden, a loud banging on the door accompanying the demand.

"Lucifer, calm down." Sam's muffled voice sounded torn. "I promise, Dean would never..."

Sam's voice grew too quiet to hear, and Dean looked over to the door in surprise as Cas took a large step back from him. "What's wrong with—"

The banging started back up. "I know you can hear me, don't make me open it myself!"

 


	12. Chapter 12

"Fuck off, _Luci_."

" _Dean_..." Sam looked disappointed. He stood beside a silent, but obviously enraged Lucifer, his hand on his arm like he was holding him in place.

Dean arched blond brows, his lips pressed together in a protesting pout. "What." He sniffed unapologetically as he stood in a towel wrapped around wet boxers, Cas by his side similarly outfitted. He crossed his arms, and leaned his upper body back some, stretching. "I'm just taking care of Cas, your _husband_ here is the one who's causing a _scene_."

"Taking care of..." Lucifer's chest rose and then fell silently, his gaze turning a calculating cold that had Dean puffing out his own chest in response.

"It's true," Cas spoke up, for the first time in their rather lengthy argument, "Dean was only trying to help. I was tired, and he was trying to keep me awake." He shot Dean a dazed look—that Dean thought _might_ be grateful if he weren't still messed up—before turning to his older brother. "I appreciate your concern, but this... doesn't concern you, Lucifer. What Dean and I do is our business."

"It's not when you're mentally compromised," Lucifer responded quietly, talking to Cas but glaring at Dean.

"I didn't give anything to him, ask your other brothers who's responsible for that," Dean snapped. Sam sighed, looking down. "I _didn't_ , Sam, you know I wouldn't do that."

"Dean, that's not the point," Sam said, sounding annoyingly disappointed, "you knew Cas wasn't thinking clearly, and so you, what, took him in the shower?"

"To help him _wake up_ ," Dean said again, getting more upset, "he was almost comatose, and he couldn't stand up well, so I got in with him." His answer was met with silence. "You know what?" he growled. "I don't need t'defend myself here, I did _nothin_ ' wrong."

"We're not saying you did," Sam said back more forcefully. Lucifer looked up at the ceiling pointedly. "But you have to see why Lucifer is upset." Dean clenched his jaw stubbornly in response. "You don't have the best track record when it comes to dating, Dean."

Dean blinked. "What's that gotta do with anything?" Sam shot him a meaningful look. " _What_? Cas and I are just friends, right Cas?"

"Yes. Your brother and I are only friends, Sam, nothing more, not now, not ever."

Dean tilted his head, cringing some at the finality of Cas's words, something about it not settling well with him. "I mean, we're good friends though," he added.

"But nothing more," Cas added, sounding agreeable, and Dean felt a twinge of discomfort again. The sandy blond lifted his right hand to chew on the corner of his thumbnail as he fought to not add anymore. Cas was right, what they had was completely platonic... well, not _platonic_ , because of the messing around and all, but it wasn't anything deeper than friends... not that he usually wanted to spend so much time with his friends, or kiss them, or cuddle with them, and he usually wasn't attracted to them—

"Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean lifted blond brows questioningly.

"I _said_ "—Sam held him with a pointed gaze—"so you two are _just_ friends?"

Dean felt even more uncomfortable, so he shrugged and looked away. "Yep, how many more times do you need to hear it?"

"Maybe until it's believable," was muttered dryly.

Dean snapped his attention back, glaring at an equally displeased Lucifer. "What'd you say?" he asked lowly.

"Oh sorry, didn't you hear me?" Lucifer asked, his tone swimming in sarcasm. "I said—"

"Lucifer, please don't." Sam's words were simple, calm, but the blond was silenced immediately.

Dean scoffed. "Whipped much, Loverboy?"

" _Dean_." Sam took a step forward towards his older brother. "I don't know what is wrong with you lately, but you need to calm down."

"Or what?" Dean grunted, feeling like a huge jerk, but he didn't care. He was angry and confused, and he didn't know what else... what with the confusion and all. "I didn't even want t'come here, let alone be stuck here for _days_ , and now I'm being treated like some little kid caught with his hand in the fucking candy jar by my little brother and his creepy ass husband. I'm done with this, I'm leavin'!" With that, Dean turned away, and he slammed the bathroom door behind, shutting out everyone.

* * *

Dean smoothed his navy waffle knit shirt before crouching down to check his bag once more. He was in his room, alone, everyone had left by the time he'd come back out of the bathroom. Cas too.

Blond brows furrowed. Was Cas mad at him over something, or did he just think that Dean had wanted him to leave? Had he said something to upset the guy? He'd admittedly not been that nice to his older brother, but he was a huge asshole, there was no way Cas actually cared.

Though—Dean sighed heavily through his nostrils as he stood back up—he was pretty sure Cas _did_ care about the asshole. He seemed to care about everyone, whether they deserved it or not. He even seemed to care about him if he had to guess, and quite a bit surprisingly. People didn't usually do that unless he was counting Bobby, his dad's best friend, or Sam. Just Bobby and Sam. And Bobby was dead, had been for over a year, and Sam had ran off and gotten married and was way too busy for him now. Everyone else he interacted with casually or... less casually, just kinda acted like he didn't have real feelings once they got to know him. Like he was just an insensitive jerk, who wasn't capable of anything deeper... Dean frowned, his mind picking up unwanted momentum at the thought.

Was he capable of anything deeper? Did Cas caring about him make less sense than his caring for his brothers, who were complete jerks to him ninety-nine percent of the time? He had to admit, now that he'd had time to think and wasn't trying to defend himself if he'd found Sam with someone in that condition, who'd only claimed to be a friend to boot, he'd have shot him, or worse. Not to mention, _he'd_ friend-zoned Cas, so why did it bother him so much every time Cas stated it out loud? He should be glad he understood so well. Shit, he could probably keep messing around with him for as long as he wanted, even move in together, adopt some babies, and Cas would _still_ insist they were only friends, and mean it.

Dean scratched at his chest when it gave a funny twinge that kind of tickled. He cleared the unhelpful thoughts, and thought about how he was going to get off the mountain in one piece.

"Hey, you're packed."

Dean nodded slightly, he didn't turn around to face Sam. "Yup."

"Dean..." Sam stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. "The roads are too bad to go anywhere. There are no roads."

"I'll walk then."

"Down the mountainside...?"

Dean sighed. He turned around. "So what, you just want me to stay here indefinitely?"

Sam shot him an arched look, then it softened into something that looked unfortunately like concern. "What's going on with you? Are you doing okay?"

Dean blinked a few times. "What kinda question is that? Of course I'm doin' okay. I'm great. The business is doing better than ever, money's not an issue. In fact, I couldn't ask for more."

Sam crossed his arms and sighed, looking down at the floor. "I'm trying to talk to you, Dean."

Dean pulled his lips to the side. "That's exactly what we're doin', Sammy."

Sam stood silent for a few beats, and Dean resisted shifting uncomfortably. When he spoke back up, he sounded subdued, "Listen... could you just wait two more days? Lucifer says he can get someone here by then to clear the roads for you." Sam looked up at him, green eyes wide with some emotion that undeniably made Dean feel guilty. "Please? I don't want to lose the only family I have left because of a stupid fight. You can hide out in here until then, I _don't care_ , just please don't go until it's safe."

Dean sighed internally. He considered telling his little brother it wasn't his job to worry about him, that he could handle himself just fine, like he always had. Instead, he gave a stiff nod. "Sure, Sam, if it'll make you feel better."

"Thanks, Dean." Sam smiled at him, and Dean gave a tight, closed-mouth one in return.

Dean cleared his throat and looked around. "So uh, where's the gremlin?"

Sam laughed. "Oh, Crowley? He's napping with Luce. You should see it, it's really cute."

Dean hummed, mentally disagreeing wholeheartedly. "Where's, ah, Cas?" he asked, nonchalant.

"Cooking."

Dean looked up. Sam smiled at him again, but differently. "What."

Sam's smile grew more sly, and he dropped down to sit on the edge of Dean's bed, messing up his comforter. "Nothing. He's cooking... well, baking."

Blond brows lifted at that. "What's he baking?"

"A pie," Sam said simply.

Dean glanced at the door. "What kind?"

"No clue." When Sam spoke again, Dean was at the door. "I know you like him. Cas. _Everyone_ knows it, but Cas. You should tell him."

Dean looked down at his hand on the door. He considered denying it again, but he wasn't fooling anyone it seemed. He exhaled silently. "Sam, like you said, I've got a shitty record, and Cas deserves better."

"And what about you?" Dean looked over his shoulder. "You don't like most people, then you find someone you actually do, a lot, and what, they're too good for you?"

Dean flexed his jaw, swallowing just barely, ignoring the unwanted swirling of emotions in his chest. "Exactly, just drop it, Sammy," he said gruffly, then he walked off.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Dean stood leaning in the open doorway to the kitchen. He hesitated saying anything for a few seconds as he watched Castiel carefully lay strip after strip of dough overtop what looked like apple pie. The dark-haired guy was in a baby blue t-shirt that showed off his naturally tone torso and dark jeans that hung just—

"I thought you were leaving."

Dean straightened himself in surprise, the words startling him from his gawking. "Oh, uh, yeah, guess I'm waitin' two days. Roads aren't too clear, Sam doesn't want me t'kill myself."

Cas glanced up out of the corner of his vision. "I'm glad to hear that." Then he turned his attention back down, continuing to make a lattice covering for his pie.

Dean cleared his throat. He didn't know why Sam had gotten all pushy about his love life—or lack of, he should say—but he didn't appreciate it. It'd been awkward as hell, and now he couldn't help but feel weird just standing in the same room as the guy who he'd been hanging out with just fine the past couple days. "You feelin' any better?"

Cas nodded slightly, still working. "Yes, the shower helped, thank you."

Dean cleared his throat. He felt suddenly guilty, and he sucked on his teeth, fighting the feeling. Cas turned away to open the top oven door, and he carefully slid his pie into it a second later. "You like to bake?"

The dark-haired man nodded as he turned back to the mostly clean counter. He picked up a glass mixing bowl neatly filled with used cooking utensils and walked it to the sink. "I enjoy it very much," he said, turning on the water, and he showed the first noticeable signs of still not feeling quite right as he held his hands under the water, his eyes glazing somewhat at the sensation.

"Here, I'll wash those for you," Dean said, finally walking into the black and white room. He gently nudged him. "Just sit, I got it."

Dark blue eyes turned up, meeting his gaze up close, the intensity behind them impossible to miss, and Dean felt his pulse spike. He plunged his hands into hot water to distract himself and broke their gaze. "Sit, you look like shit," he lied.

"Sorry." Cas pushed up onto the counter.

Dean frowned. "Don't apologize for shit like that, Cas." Silence followed the statement, and Dean sighed as he began to scrub the dishes. He was terrible at this, interacting with people nicely, and the way Castiel responded to him only made it that much more painfully obvious. "Lucifer give you crap after I left?"

"No, I think he only wanted to yell at you."

Dean felt a smile tug at his lips, but he cleared his throat again. "Good," he said, gruff, and he placed a clean bowl in the empty sink.

"I can dry those."

Dean nodded. Without looking up, he grabbed a dry hand towel off the counter and tossed it into the guy's lap. Then he handed him the bowl. He worked on cleaning a sugar-encrusted measuring cup.

"Dean, can I ask you a personal question?" Castiel set the dried bowl beside him.

Dean felt a weird twinge in his chest. He handed him the measuring cup. "Shoot."

"What do you look for in a significant other?"

The twinge in Dean's chest grew to a weird rushing feeling. He scrubbed at some utensils, rinsing them and dropping them in the other sink instead of handing them to the waiting guy. "I don't know, Cas, what kinda question is that?" he said, irritated.

"You're angry."

Dean felt himself actually getting angry then, as if the guy could just predict his emotions, or cause them, or some crazy shit like that. He turned off the water, and he took the offered damp towel, drying his hands on it. He finally looked up, and he realized why he'd been avoiding it. He felt his mouth go dry, and he couldn't swallow if he wanted. Dark blue eyes were staring down at him with a soft puppy expression, and he didn't like puppies anything like Sam, but damnit if it wasn't affecting him. He sighed. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Michael told me some people just aren't compatible romantically, even if they are good friends. That people sometimes want different things from a significant other."

Dean swore mentally. He stepped closer to Cas, but was careful not to move between his legs despite how inviting he looked perched on the counter at waist height. "Listen, Cas"—he stopped himself from saying that his brother was a piece of shit—"that might be true, but it's not with me. I like the same things, prefer it actually, I don't wanna be in a relationship with someone I can't hang out with, but I'm not looking for that right now." He hoped he said the right thing, if there was a right thing for this situation.

"Why not?"

Dean resisted closing his eyes and sighing. He felt the urge to just move closer, to wrap Cas's legs around him, to push up his shirt and taste his skin, to fuck him hard right there in the kitchen and hear the noises he'd make. He wondered if they'd be quiet and impossibly rough like how he spoke, or if he'd be louder and breathier, if he could make him come undone. "Because I'm not what anyone needs in their life," he said simply.

The dark-haired guy looked like he was going to respond when two sets of footsteps were heard.

"Cassy, _Dean-o_ , we found you two!" Gabriel strolled into the kitchen. He plopped himself directly in front of Cas, resting casually between his knees and he grinned knowingly at Dean, who took a step back and raised his chin. "Look, Mikey, they were in here baking us a cake this whole time, not fucking each other's brains out upstairs like Luce said."

Dean's eyes widened, and Gabriel laughed.

"I made a pie, not a cake," Castiel corrected him quietly.

Michael grinned sharkishly, walking over and throwing an arm around Dean's shoulders casually. Not seeming to notice or care when he stiffened under his touch, he only relaxed more against him. "Of course you did, I do love a good pie."

Dean looked up at Cas, but the dark-haired guy was staring down at the dishes they'd cleaned together. He started to pull away from the unwanted touch, but the arm around him tightened somewhat. "Dean, Sam was telling me you played football."

Dean nodded slightly, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek as his agitation grew. "Yeah, receiver," he said with a forming scowl.

"Excellent, I was quarterback myself and Gabriel was on special teams unsurprisingly," the guy said cockily.

"Kicker," Gabriel offered happily, "Luce used to be quarterback too, but he quit at the beginning of freshman year."

"Can't blame him, he'd have been benched all year with me still there. Plus, he started smoking a lot of weed the summer before, probably couldn't have even made it through conditioning."

Gabriel said nothing, only shrugged casually, and Dean forgot about the unwanted arm around his shoulders as he realized something. The asshole hanging on him seemed more than willing to talk about Lucifer, unlike everyone else who seemed weirdly tight-lipped about the guy. And he was messed up.

"So whataya say, Dean. You up for some tackle football in the living room? We can clear out the furniture no problem, or leave it, whatever you _prefer_..."

Dean lifted blond brows at the guy's insinuating tone. Was he actually hitting on him? He really looked at him for the first time. The guy, who was anything but his type, was biting lightly on his lower lip as a smirk teased one side, his eyes that were blue—but just plain blue, not the oddly dark shade of Cas's—were trained on him unapologetically.

Dean shrugged. "Sure, game sounds fun. We should move the furniture though, wouldn't want to break anything."

Michael's grin grew to expose perfect white teeth, and Gabriel laughed as he leaned against a quiet Cas for support. "All right, let's go then. Dean's on my team, you got Cas, Gabe."

* * *

"Great catch, Dean!"

Dean grinned, his chest heaving, and he felt good. They'd won, and Dean loved to win, always had. No matter how bad he felt, it all got washed away somehow in the post-game euphoria. He let the obnoxious guy throw an arm around him, he had the aim of a sniper, he could appreciate that. He looked over to Cas to tell him good game, but he was already walking up the stairs. "Hey Cas, wait—"

"I'd leave him, Dean," Michael said, as he moved away some but his hand was still casually on Dean's bicep, "he doesn't feel too well, probably needs to lie down."

Dean frowned, but he nodded, because he did look like he was barely standing as he trudged up the last few steps. "Yeah. Okay. What are we gonna do?"

"Eat some pie." Gabriel grinned. "It's cool enough, Cas would've wanted us to."

The three guys moved into the kitchen, and Dean was handed a glass with what looked like rum in it. He shrugged and took a drink, then a plate with a big piece of pie was in his other a few seconds later. "So what's the deal with you and Lucifer, sibling rivalry?" he asked after taking another drink. Gabriel set a fork on his plate, and he took a seat at the bar.

Michael slid into the seat beside him. "Why the interest? Not a fan of his and Sam's relationship?" he asked slyly. "Not that I blame you, I wouldn't be if I were you..."

Dean frowned, but he took a bite of food instead of responding to see if he'd offer anything else that could tip him off as to what he was even looking for.

"Careful, Mike, Luci might _hear_ you," Gabriel said lazily enough, but there was an underlying pointedness that Dean didn't like at all.

"If he's bugged this room I wouldn't want to disappoint him," Michael drawled. He shifted even closer to Dean until their shoulders were touching, and despite what he'd just said his voice was low and hushed. "Do you want the dirt on your little brother's husband, because I've got enough to _bury_ him with it."

Dean felt a twinge of guilt; Sam would be so mad at him if he knew. He took a long drink before saying, "Yeah, what's the worst of it?"

"Well, I guess that would be how they met in the first place."

Gabriel groaned softly, rubbing at the side of his face roughly. "If only I was more sober I'd stop this."

Dean puzzled at that, but then it suddenly made a lot of sense, and he really wished it didn't.

"Well hell, might as well be really pissed up for this, in for a penny." Gabriel topped off all their glasses before hopping up to sit on the counter beside Dean's plate so he could hear without Michael having to raise his voice. He leaned over as he took a bite, and nodded for him to continue.

Michael smiled unpleasantly. "It all started when your brother was looking into the suspected espionage at our father's business..."

* * *

Dean slammed back another drink. Damnit. Damnit all to hell.

"Amen, brother."

Dean waved a hand, pushing Gabe off of him, the guy was practically lying on him. "I can't believe he left me to run off with a criminal."

The short line of shot glasses were filled again. "I understand how you feel, Dean." Michael wasn't slurring, but he was talking very slowly. "I was _devastated_ when I found out my own little brother was sabotaging our family business."

Gabriel began to snort, choking on the drink he'd started to sip, and then the noises turned into laughter. "Yeah, taking his spot as partner seemed to help with the pain though."

"I didn't make Luce do anything, you know I tried to stop him," Michael said back boredly. "Now if only dad could just let it go."

Dean looked between them with raised brows.

"He's been on an extended vacation ever since," Gabriel offered, spilling his drink some on the hardwood floor. He hiccuped. "It's been over a year."

Dean nodded with a grunt. "Mine and Sam's dad used to be gone all the time too, it's rough."

"Mmhmm," Michael hummed as he sipped. "Even harder when you're running his business and don't know what the hell he wants you to do half the time," he said, and Dean nodded sympathetically.

"Just do whatever you want," Gabriel said with a flippant wave, "if I were still there that's what I'd do, I'd turn the whole place into an ambulance chasing firm. That's where the real money is."

"But you're not," Michael said coolly, crowding Dean as he leaned forward to look at Gabriel. "You're too busy filming snuff films. What a waste of a Harvard law degree."

"I am not! It's mainly just porn," Gabriel protested, pouring more alcohol for all of them with narrowed eyes and a sloppy hand. He patted Dean on the shoulder when he laughed. "You're all right, Dean-o, I take back everything I ever said about you."

Dean blinked at that, but then he began to laugh again, Gabriel joining in giddily. "You guys are all crazy," he said gruffly with a shake of his head. He set his empty glass down for another refill. "Except for Cas, Cas is all right," he amended with a sniff.

Snickers sounded on only one side of Dean.

"I told you he had it bad for him, Mikey..."

Dean sniffed, ignoring the sentiment, because he wasn't going to think about that. He was drinking to forget not to moon over Cas. Not that he ever did that, well, maybe he did sometimes. But he had the cutest smile Dean had ever seen, it was so sincere, genuine, that's how he'd describe the dark-haired guy. And there was something about his looks, at first glance he seemed attractive enough, but the more he talked and you got to really know him he had this quiet aura about him—

"Earth to, _Dean_."

Dean blinked and leaned back into the couch to get away from too close pale eyes. "I'm starving," he mumbled.

"So am I," Michael said, leaning back and resting beside a somewhat dazed Dean, Gabriel laughing and doing the same. He held up his phone. "Let's get Cas down here."

"Yeah, tell him to bring some contraband from my fridge. I want a steak."

Dean watched Michael tap surprisingly quickly on his phone for someone who'd drank as much as they had. "He'll be down soon." Then he leaned more on Dean as he lifted his hips to slip his phone back into his pocket.

"Dean, try not to move, I'm going to use you as a pillow." Michael's head settled on Dean's shoulder. "Wake me when the food is ready, Gabe."

"If we get any..." Gabriel murmured lowly, and then Cas was in view as he came down the staircase, eyeing them all with an indiscernible look.

Dean cleared his throat, and he tried to sit up, but he realized too late there was an arm wrapped snugly around his waist and a head on his shoulder. "Hey, Cas," he said, he cleared his throat again. He felt suddenly not that well.

"Dean," Cas greeted him back before saying, "Gabriel, I don't know where your 'contraband' is. I looked, your mini fridge is empty."

Gabriel swore harshly, and Michael snickered into Dean's shoulder. "Luci must have found it, that _bastard_ , I'm going to starve now."

"You should have hidden it better," Cas said, not seeming sympathetic. "I'd share with you guys, but I don't want to."

Gabriel gasped, and Dean lifted blond brows in surprise.

"Now, unless you want some veggie burgers I was working."

" _Fine_ , but smother it in ketchup, you're the worst baby brother ever," Gabriel muttered.

Dean clumsily untangled himself as Cas started to turn away. "Wait, I'll help ya," he said in a rush. He stood up, and then blinked slowly as everything blacked out for a few seconds too long. He felt heat rush into his face, and he blinked rapidly as his vision slowly dotted back into view. "I'll help," he said again but with less certainty.

"You're drunk," Cas said.

Dean shrugged. "I've been worse off."

The dark-haired guy sighed and turned away, and Dean took that as an okay and followed after him.

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you tired, Dean?"

Dean hummed. "Nah."

"Then maybe you could stand on your own, it's hard to cook like this."

Dean huffed a breath of amusement against the nape of Cas's neck, his arms tightening around the guy's waist. "This's nice..."

"Is that why you were letting Michael all over you, because it was nice?"

Dean paused at that, his mind waking up a little, and Cas continued to cook in front of him. "You're not mad about that, are ya?"

"Dean, I..." Dean felt instead of heard him sigh. "I just think you're drunk, and you'll regret this later."

"Why would I regret huggin' you? I like it, it feels good, and you like it too, right?"

"I do."

"Then I don't see the problem." Dean burrowed into Cas's shirt just below his collar, and inhaled deeply. He hummed lowly, his hips instinctively pressing forward ever so slightly, his hands drifting some... Cas smelled good too.

"You're making me horny, Dean."

Dean opened his eyes, and he blinked. He did it again. He watched as Cas turned around, neglecting his hot pan to do so. "Oh," he said dumbly. Then his gaze drifted down to chapped lips, and he wanted to feel them with his own. "Sorry..."

"It's okay, but if you don't want that you—"

Dean had covered Cas's moving lips with his, and he began to move them but not to talk.

He felt a hand land splayed out on his chest as if to push him away, so he opened his mouth and worked harder. He flicked the seam of Cas's lips with it, then he took a bit of his lower lip between his teeth gently and sucked on it.

The hand closed around his shirt and pulled him closer, and Dean smiled into the kiss, tilting his head and sliding his tongue into Cas's open mouth as his arms wrapped firmly around his waist; and he worked on mapping it all out, hoping he'd remember it when he sobered.

"Dean."

Lips met his again, and Dean worked to distract him more. He felt a hand slide up his arm and onto his neck, grasping the side of it needily, and he groaned in appreciation. Opening his mouth wider, he slid one hand down the back of Cas's jeans and grabbed a handful of his nice ass. "Cas..." he husked as he received a low gasp in response. "Cas, you're so perfect."

"Dean. We need to stop," Cas said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically breathy, and Dean bit down on his entire lower lip at the intoxicating sound.

Sliding down his other hand to lift Cas up onto the nearby counter with a grunt, he pressed in between his legs like he'd wanted to earlier. The sensation of their lower bodies so close made his eyes want to roll back. "Don't you want me?" he husked.

"Dean, I do, but — I think this is a mistake."

When Dean tilted his chin up with a soft pleading grunt Cas leaned down and met his lips again, his hands running through his short blond hair, massaging his scalp. He groaned again, his pants getting painfully tight. "Want you so bad..."

Cas's lips disappeared to somewhere, so Dean began to kiss tenderly down Cas's throat, the sound of unsteady breathing encouraged him to take up a rocking motion to appease a certain needy body part, pressing between Cas's legs over and over. "I wanna fuck you right here."

"We can't," Cas said, his words sounding remorseful but no longer resistant; he sounded completely on board and then some, "someone'll walk in, Dean, we need to go somewhere private."

"Okay, where," Dean asked, then he flicked out his tongue.

"Bathroom, there's a bathroom right there," Cas said, and he pushed Dean back and hopped off the counter. Then he pulled him along by the front of his shirt to said place. The sandy blond grinned as he was pulled roughly into a bathroom with a toilet and marble vanity, everything white, and just enough floor space. He locked the door behind him and was pulled back down to meet demanding lips. He wrapped his arms around the guy, hugging him as he slowed his kissing somewhat. He brought up a hand to graze Cas's rough jawline. "Do you wanna blow job?"

Blue irises seemed to shrink as black pupils blew out, overtaking them until they were just blue rims. Cas nodded slowly. "I'd like that, Dean."

Dean huffed a small laugh, and he lowered down onto his knees. He began to undo Cas's nice jeans as he held his wide gaze, somehow mesmerized by the expression. Then he carefully released the brunet from his boxers, his hand wrapping around him firmly for only the second time. Cas's chest rose but didn't fall, like he was holding his breath.

"Here goes nothin'," Dean teased, then he opened his mouth and leaned forward. Hands grasped the back of his head firmly, and soft curses he hadn't expected urged him on, and he quickly got lost in the sensation that was so clearly Cas.

Blue eyes stared up at a high white ceiling, shallow breaths escaped dry lips. Dean was sucking his dick. " _Shit_." Cas tried to exhale, the pressing in his chest making it almost impossible, like someone was blowing a balloon up inside it, and he worked to hold back for just a couple minutes. He couldn't get off immediately, he might not be that experienced, but he knew that was a thing.

He felt a tongue slide _firmly_ up along the bottom of his length, from base to tip, making his toes curl and his eyes to glaze over, and then soft lips encircled him once more, and he was sucked in. "Oh _fuck_ me," slipped from his lips, and he couldn't help but look down.

Intense green eyes were watching him, and Dean didn't look drunk at that moment at all. He realized his hand was tangled in blond hair, and he relaxed his grip, rubbing apologetically where his fingers had been tugging. Then his knees almost gave up on him, Dean humming appreciatively around him, and his lungs began to force air in and out too quickly.

He tapped his head urgently. "Dean, I'm going to come," he breathed, but instead of cool air hitting him, delaying the inevitable, he was drawn in even further into the blond's talented hot mouth, and when he bumped the back of his throat— _everything_ slowed down for a second.

He groaned, low and hoarse, the blond sucking gently and groaning too as he began to pulse inside his mouth, and the sensation intensified, his legs turning to putty as his orgasm drew itself out. Then he leaned back, resting on the sink behind him for support. He barely noticed Dean carefully situating him back into his pants, euphoria clouding his thoughts, lungs searching tiredly for air, but he did notice lips caressing his cheek a few moments later and moving down to his jaw. "Thank you," he said through a rough exhale.

"Did y'like it?" Dean murmured, obviously smiling against his stubbled jawline.

He nodded jerkily, and he grasped the side of Dean's face, tilting it up so he could meet his mouth straight on. Their tongues touched, and he could taste himself on him. He felt hands grasp his sides, and Dean pressed his lower body against his hip with a low needy groan. He pulled back, glazed green eyes staring down at him, perfect lips parted, red and swollen. He ignored the uneven tempo his pulse had taken up as he said, "Can I do that to you?"

Dean's eyes widened, blond brows shooting up, but then a soft smile made itself known. "Yeah, if you wanna."

Cas nodded. "I do." Then his eyes fell shut as Dean pulled him back into a grinning kiss, and he started to undo his pants blindly.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean swore softly, his breathing ragged but slowing. He exhaled a laugh in disbelief, his entire body still tingling in euphoria. "That was, uh...," he said, his low voice unsteady, head still spinning from what Cas's mouth was _capable_ of, because Dean had been with a lot of people, and even the ones who'd bragged they were expert dick suckers didn't have _anything_ on the quiet lawyer, "what the _fuck_ , Cas?"

"Did you not like it?"

"What?" Dean focused on serious blue eyes directly in front of him, dark brows pushed down in a critical fashion. " _No_ ," he said quickly with a huff, "no, I mean—that was fuckin' _insane_."

Dark blue eyes grew more reserved, and so Dean grabbed the brunet and pulled him forward, his hands cupping his face gently but securely as he tried to say something more intelligible than just expletives. He schooled his features, hardening them. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Dark blue blinked. Once. Twice. Then brows began to lift cautiously. "It was good then?"

Dean exhaled sharply through his nostrils, lips held firmly together, and he wasn't going to laugh. "Com'ere..." He tugged him closer, between his splayed legs as he sat leaned back against the marble white counter. He let one more breath shake his chest, then he focused on Cas, and one side of his mouth tugged up. "You better not be doin' that for money."

Cas broke into a smile. "I'm glad you liked it, Dean."

Dean laughed then and drew Cas close enough so he could press his lips to his and run his fingers up into his soft, dark locks. "Course I liked it," he mumbled as they kissed, "hell, you coulda just let me stick it in your mouth and done nothin', and I woulda been over the moon."

"But this was better," Cas qualified, uncertain, letting Dean pull him into another grinning kiss.

" _Mm_ , yeah, much better..." Dean agreed, parting his lips to meet Cas's more enthusiastically, working his mouth open with his tongue.

"Oh _shit_! Cas, _what_ _the_ _hell_?!" Dean and Cas froze as one. " _Mike_ , _grab_ _the_ _extinguisher_!"

The shouted words were followed by a sudden loud beeping, inside the bathroom and out, echoing throughout the house. Then from somewhere far away Lucifer could be heard shouting unhappily.

"The veggie burgers..." Cas said, and Dean sucked in a hissing breath, "I think I left them on."

"I don't see it, it's gone—NO, not water, Gabe, you stupid fuck!" was shouted.

"I think you're right," Dean said back with a grimace. He glanced around the bathroom and puffed his cheeks before letting the air out in a pop. "So, how do we wanna do this?"

There was laughing and coughing mixed with shouting that didn't sound overly reassuring, and the smell of smoke was seeping under the crack of the door.

"I don't think they'll notice," Cas said, and Dean shrugged, reaching out and pushing the door open, motioning Cas out with the other. He glanced down, giving himself a once over before following him out.

The kitchen was filled with smoke. Dean pulled his shirt up over his nose, choking some, as he reached to pull Cas back from the exceptionally big pan fire that was turning the ceiling black just above it. He moved around an annoyed Lucifer, who was busy blaming Gabriel and Michael for everything, the former laughing obnoxiously as he struggled to open the windows in the suffocating room.

Dean found a large box of baking soda and a metal pan. He turned around and threw the contents of the box at the flaming cooktop then got close enough to drop the pan over the fire, smothering what was left.

Coughing and choking filled the room, the smoke thickening, and Dean guided Cas closer to an open window.

"What the _hell_ happened here?" Lucifer glared at Dean, and Dean felt his shoulders tighten as they flexed at the perceived blame.

"It was me, sorry, Luc," was said from an unexpected source. Michael had his face covered with a white hand towel as he stood by the sink. He pulled it away to drawl, "I was making some of your _delicious_ vegan burgers, and they just — caught on fire, weirdest thing."

Lucifer's attention flicked over to the guy. "They don't just catch on fire, Mikey."

"Hm, must've used too much oil," the guy said with obvious distaste, covering his face again.

Gabriel turned away, dipping his head outside, not saying anything.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer, I'll clean all this," Castiel said quietly, his low voice exceptionally somber, "it was my fault, not Michael's, I forgot they were cooking."

Lucifer waved his hand dismissively, a disgusted look wrinkling his nose. "You all are unbelievable, just clean this shit up, I'm going to go check on Sam."

Dean scowled, and he waited until Lucifer was gone to turn to Cas. "You okay?"

Cas shook his head, and then he moved towards the covered pan. "Why did you lie to him, Michael?" he said quietly, picking up the pans with an oven mitt and setting them in the sink.

Dean stayed by the window but strained his hearing.

Michael walked over and ruffled Cas's hair as he began to wash the dishes. "Luci has a bad temper, it's better for me to deal with it," he said in a bored fashion. Then he grinned widely and leaned in towards Cas to whisper something.

Dean frowned.

"You two get a little... _preoccupied_?"

Dean crossed his arms before looking to his right to find a slyly grinning Gabriel. "That's none o'your business," he said, jaw set, and then he sniffed as he let his gaze slip back over to a still talking Michael and Cas. He didn't like it for some reason. Maybe it was the way Michael invaded his personal space so much, like he was daring his younger brother to complain about it, or maybe it was just how tense and unhappy Cas looked by whatever he was saying.

"So... _Dean-o_ "—Dean's muscles grew rigid as Gabriel draped an arm around his shoulder, and he started to tell him to get off—"what do you say we find some _real_ meat to cook in this house?"

Dean blinked. "I thought it was all gone."

Gabriel gave a smothered laugh. "Mine is, but I'm not the only one hiding food here."

Dean pushed the tip of his tongue into his cheek as he considered, resisting the urge to look over so he didn't have to see the guy's stupid grin again. "I'm not taking anything from Cas."

"Of course not, wouldn't _dream_ of it either, but that's not who I meant..."

Dean looked over finally, and he held in his agitation just _barely_. "Who then?"

Gabriel's smile only grew. "Sam, of course."

* * *

Dean sipped on a bottle of water, nursing the beginnings of a hangover. He was sitting on an unfinished step in the basement of the cabin. It was cold as balls, the walls were mostly covered in shelves and cabinets, and there were a few deep freezers in one corner.

"Ah _ha_!" Gabriel exclaimed for the umpteenth time, and Dean rolled his eyes and took another swig, waiting. "Fuck, just more fucking fresh pasta, _fu_ - _uck_..."

Dean sighed as he leaned his elbows back on the stairs behind him, and he took another drink as he thought. Cas had seemed a little off after his talk with Michael, more so than usual. He'd just kind of ignored Dean and disappeared the next thing he knew. "Hey, Goldilocks," he barked with a lift of his chin, "what'd your big brother say to Cas in the kitchen that upset him so much?"

Gabriel stood up, glancing over in surprise. "How would I know? I was beside you."

Dean stared back blankly.

The guy gave an exaggerated shrug. "I can't read minds, do you want me to guess?"

Dean sniffed loudly. "Yeah, do that."

The sandy blond began to search again, muttering under his breath when he crouched down in front of a small door, half the size of a regular one. It was to the side of the cabinets he'd just been looking through, the freezers unsurprisingly all filled with only non-meat items. He began to fiddle with a combination lock on it. "Ah... I don't know, maybe something like, ' _Cas_ , do you _really_ wanna mess around with some guy who's already turned you down? Have some _respect_ for yourself. But that's just a guess."

Dean scowled, and Gabriel grinned knowingly at him in return. He didn't really have anything to say to that so he focused on the job at hand, because if Sam _had_ stashed some meat in this god forsaken place he was betting on chicken; and chicken sounded pretty damn good right about then. "Is it letters or numbers?"

Gabriel looked back down at the lock. "Four letters... any guesses if it was Sam's?"

Dean hummed. "Try Mary."

Gabriel flicked the letters around speedily. The lock clicked open. He laughed victoriously, tossing it aside, and he opened the door. "Well shit, not food."

Dean craned his neck to see what was behind it, suddenly alert. He heard the shuffling of papers, and he pushed himself off the step and made his way over, his suspicions rising. "Sam's old files..." he mumbled as Gabriel gathered up a pile of manila folders more than a few inches thick.

"Wait a minute, there's a _deep_ _freezer_ back there," Gabriel said with excitement, handing off the folders to Dean without a care. He crawled in, leaving Dean with a handful of work files Sam had taken with him when he'd left.

Dean ignored Gabriel's cry of happiness a few seconds later as he lifted the cover to the top file, and green eyes slowly hardened as they skimmed.

* * *

Dean pushed open the door to his bedroom, exhausted after reading through most of the papers Sam had hidden from him. He walked blindly, the lights out and curtains drawn.

It was late, and Dean couldn't decide if he was more disappointed or concerned about his little brother's terrible decision making skills.

"Damnit, Sam," he growled under his breath as he dropped the heavy stack of papers onto his nightstand. He pulled off his shirt, standing by his bed.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean froze, his shirt still in his hand, and his heart picked up momentum. He turned and strained his vision in the dark room, just able to make out a silhouette on the couch with messy hair. "Cas..."

"I was going to ask if I could sleep on your couch, but you weren't in here." Cas paused, and Dean didn't offer an explanation. "I didn't have a room after Michael kicked me out of ours, but I didn't want to use the living room and upset Sam. He worries too much about me."

Dean dropped his shirt and sighed. That was _one_ person his little shit of a brother cared about, but, he couldn't really fault him for it either. "Cas, get your ass over here," he said tiredly.

"I can leave," the guy said even as he stood and walked over obediently. "I apologize for springing this on you."

Dean could just make the guy out up close. He was only in a pair of pajama pants. "Climb in," he said simply.

Cas hesitated. "Dean... you don't have to—"

"I said get in the damn bed, Cas," he said more shortly, "I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch, all right?"

The guy climbed on without another word, moving to the side he'd slept on before. Dean stood there another moment, considering taking the couch himself. He knew what would probably happen if he didn't, mainly because he wanted it. He grimaced, struggling internally, and then he stepped out of his pants and climbed under cool sheets stubbornly. He could control himself one night; it wasn't like Cas had magical powers or something over him.

Dean settled on his side, facing Cas. "So, what uh, what happened between you and your brother?" he asked distractedly as he lifted his head and folded the pillow beneath him in half to make it more comfortable on his broad shoulders. "Still couldn't agree on who should take the blame about the fire?" he teased lightly.

"No, I hit him."

Dean paused. He blinked. Well.

"In the face, with my fist. And I called him a name."

Dean blinked again, in shock. He might have laughed too. "Good for you," he said, suddenly grinning. "I hope you got him good." Yes, he was definitely laughing.

"I did. He's going to have a black eye," the dark-haired guy said, sounding incredibly unhappy about it. "I gave him one of my steaks for it."

Dean grinned still. "You're the only person I know who'd give someone a black eye and then turn around and give 'em a steak to put on it. What'd he do that got you so worked up?" he asked, curious.

Cas sighed, and Dean felt the mattress shake underneath him as the guy settled onto his back less than a foot away. "What are your thoughts on Michael, Dean, in the romantic sense?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "I don't got any, isn't he married or somethin'?"

"Yes, but Michael seems to be under the impression you two have chemistry."

Dean cleared his throat, feeling awkward. "That's bullshit, I can barely stand him. No offense." He added the last bit more gruffly.

"None taken," was said back quietly, but Dean couldn't help but think he sounded pleased. "That's what I told him I thought, more or less, and then things degraded from there. I'll save you the details."

Dean hmph'd. "What'd you call him?"

Cas looked over, and Dean could just make out his face as his eyes continued to adjust.

"Ass butt."

Dean blinked. Cas blinked back. Then they both started laughing.

Dean found himself moving closer. "Why the _hell_ did y'call him that?" he asked with a huge grin.

"It was the first thing that came to me," Cas responded, sounding almost as amused. He shifted back onto his side to face Dean. "I was very upset."

Dean hummed, his gaze drifting down between them, studying the small amount of space he wanted to remove. "All 'cause of me?" he husked, his fingers itching to reach out. "I'm not worth fighting about, Cas."

"You're wrong, Dean," was said, and green eyes turned up at the unexpected words, dark blue orbs staring back with a seriousness that made Dean's pulse spike. "You're definitely worth it."

Dean felt something twist deep inside his chest, and then a hand slid up the side of his neck and grasped the back of his head firmly; and he let himself be pulled forward and against rough lips that he was starting to prefer over all others.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, long time no see. where’ve you all been, busy? heh. okay, yeah, sorry, my bad

Dean woke slowly. First he felt heat, and a body, a firm body pressed up against his front. He inhaled sleepily, and his senses were filled with a cool calming scent that had him curling more around the body buried with him under comfy sheets that felt like a huge pillow.

His lips grazed short soft hairs, and he grunted happily when the other body shifted back against him some, snuggling in the best places. He tightened his arm around the tone waist beneath it, giving a firm squeeze as he woke even more, hips flexing forward instinctively. Then his hand began to drift downward.

Dean grazed his fingertips lightly over tented boxers, the body part beneath pulsing in response, heating up his own body in a way nothing else could.

"Dean... are you awake?"

The skin around green eyes pinched in an effort to keep them closed, and a low groan rumbled at the base of Dean's throat as his mind woke enough to remind him to be good. Shit. "No, st'll sleepin'," he mumbled back and buried his face into Cas's bare shoulder as he pulled his hand back up to safe territory, a nice pressure growing inside his chest despite it all. There was something _right_ about the way the guy felt under his touch... even if he needed to stop doing it before he gave him the wrong idea. Leaving would fix that soon enough though, so maybe he didn't need to worry too much about it, seeing as how it hadn't helped him any yet.

"Lucifer and Sam are awake already," Cas said, his rough voice even more so from sleep, and possibly Dean too... "I heard them take Crowley out."

Dean hummed as he pressed his lips to warm skin, his grip tightening stubbornly around the guy. He'd stop later for sure. "Good, maybe they'll fall in a snow drift and never come back"—he paused—"well, 'xcept for Crowley, he's all right."

"I thought you didn't like dogs."

Dean frowned at that. "Who told y'that?"

"Sam."

Dean snorted derisively. "Just 'cause I don't get a huge hard on for wet noses and floppy ears doesn't mean I don't like dogs."

"I like dogs very much," Cas said, sounding rather pleased for some reason, "they're very loyal and eager to please."

"Sounds like me," Dean murmured back playfully.

"Yes, you share many similarities with the Canidae family."

Dean laughed into the side of Cas's neck. "Hey now, I don't need your sass this early in the mornin'. First Michael and now me, huh, you on some kinda mission?"

Castiel's chest filled and then emptied loudly. "You're right, I'm sorry Dean, I should go—"

" _Hey_ "—Dean held onto a suddenly pulling away Cas—"hey now, I was just teasin', calm down."

"But you're right," Cas said, his tone suddenly impossibly forlorn, and Dean couldn't help but be a little worried for the guy. "I'm a bad person—"

"Now hold up," he said firmly, "no one said _anything_ about that, we were just jokin' back and forth, that's all." When he got no response other than Cas tensing even more he persisted, "Listen Cas... I might not have been there last night, but I didn't need to be to know he deserved _whatever_ you gave him, your brother has been _askin_ ' for a giant knuckle sandwich ever since he first got here, you got that? _Cas_."

"Maybe so," he said quietly, "but I should have had better self control. I chose to do what I did, I enjoyed it, Dean. I was wrong."

"Screw that," Dean said gruffly. "You're supposed to enjoy it, that's the _point_. In fact, you did him a favor, you taught him a valuable lesson on how not to treat people. Now stop beating yourself up over this before I get the urge to beat the shit out of him too for upsetting you so much."

There was a moment of silence. "...You'd do that for me?"

Dean snorted. "Course I would, don't be stupid, Cas."

"Thank you, Dean." The words sincere and rough, and Dean couldn't help but think a little sexy.

The blond sniffed, and he made himself more comfortable again, happy his human body pillow had decided to relax once more. "Anytime, what are friends for," he mumbled.

"Dean, I think I should tell you something..." Dean grunted questioningly and buried his face into the back of Cas's shoulder to block the little bit of light sneaking through closed curtains. "...I find, I feel quite strongly towards you."

Dean froze at that, his mind doing really weird things like encouraging him to return the crazy sentiment or ask him to clarify for some god forsaken reason. He cleared his throat when it felt like he might choke. "Ah, well, uh, thanks for telling me," he said roughly.

"I apologize, I know we're just friends, and it must be awkward for you—"

Dean twitched up one corner of his lip in distaste, something about hearing the guy call them 'friends' _really_ bothered him, and he still didn't know why. He cut in. "I don't like labels, Cas," he said gruffly, but then he paused, softening his tone with a lot of effort for the guy's benefit, "but you should know. Being one of my friends, it means a _lot_. It's like being family, okay?"

Cas took a moment to nod. "You must have a large family then."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Not quite." Then he ignored the small twisting in his chest to press his lips to the back of the guy's earlobe. "Sleep okay?" he murmured, his arm softening its hold around the guy.

"I did. Did you?"

Dean nipped playfully at Cas's ear. "Like a baby..." He captured his lips when the guy turned his head to look back at him, and a happy hum rumbled deep inside his chest as Cas shifted around to face him straight on. And their kiss grew more heated.

He grasped the side of Cas's face, sharp stubble tickling his palm as their lower bodies met, and he suddenly found it harder to breathe. " _Cas_..."—he nipped a little sharply at the guy's lower lip—"Cas, you do funny things to me."

Dean felt a firm hand on his side then, cool against his own heated skin. A thumb latched on the sensitive spot where his hipbone dipped in, and he groaned when he felt the guy's lower body press against his for the first time so clearly. "I want this, Dean. I want _you_."

Dean nodded faintly as he began to roll his hips along with the guided hand, pressing himself up more firmly against Cas each time. " _Shit_. Are—are ya sure?" he asked, his low voice cracking roughly. Green eyes opened when nothing was said, and they met serious dark blue under a messy black fringe in the early light. "I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with."

The dark-haired guy opened his mouth to speak—

" _Cas_!" The door was shoved open with a bang, and Dean craned his head around with a scowl. Sam was half-covered in snow, his face bright red, and his large chest was heaving visibly beneath a half-zipped snow jacket. "Gabe is buried in the snow, Luc said to get you!"

Dean's blond brows furrowed, pinching together, even as the guy climbed out of the bed immediately without any questions. "Hold up a second, Sammy," Dean said, sitting up slowly, Cas already half dressed and stomping into his shoes. "What do you mean he's _buried in the snow_?"

"He just disappeared, by a tree! One second he was there, the next he was gone!" Sam shouted back like Dean was an idiot or something.

"It's called a tree well," Cas offered lowly as he walked around Sam and out of the room, leaving the two brothers alone.

* * *

“It's fine, I'm fine... well, maybe some pie to go with this hot cocoa."

Dean rolled his eyes. Cas walked past him and out of the living room without so much as a glance in his direction. There was a fire built up in the stone fireplace, and Gabe was huddled by it, wrapped in several heavy blankets, cupping an oversized mug of hot cocoa Cas had made him from scratch, marshmallows and all. Dean sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he slouched back in his seat. Cas hadn't made him a cup... not that he wanted any—but he might've.

"Oh and Cas, maybe a scotch too!"

Dean snorted at that and shifted his gaze impatiently to the outside. The snow had finally stopped, but there was a _lot_ of it, his baby was buried in the white stuff. Sam and Lucifer had gone with Michael to the neighbors on snowmobile, something about them all being able to possibly leave tomorrow—but for real, how did Cas know he didn't want hot chocolate? Maybe he just didn't care—

"Here, Dean, I thought you might want this."

Dean looked up, green eyes wide, the tip of his tongue pressed into the corner of his cheek. "Hm?"

Cas held out a steaming mug that smelled like heaven. "It's hot cocoa," he said seriously, too seriously for the content.

Blond brows raised ever so slowly, and Dean blinked a few times. "Oh. Ah, yeah, thanks, Cas," he said gruffly as he took the warm drink from him, his fingers grazing the guy's lightly, and his chest tightening in a funny way when he received a quiet smile in response. Then he found himself watching Cas walk away through curls of steam—

"Just remember, if you break it you buy it..."

Dean curled his lip up in distaste. He took a sip of the drink that was just the right amount of sweetness. "You still alive?" he said grumpily.

"Deano, I'm hurt, I thought we were friends."

Dean rolled his eyes. He felt wrong for some reason, grumpy, agitated, something. He couldn't quite tell what it was. He just knew he wanted to jump in his car—to _hell_ with waiting one more day, like some painful countdown—get out of there already, that, or he wanted to go into the kitchen and tell Cas how much he adored his homemade marshmallows and cover him in it so he could lick it all off.

"You should tell him."

Dean turned his gaze away from the kitchen doorway and towards the bundled-up idiot by the fire. "Tell who _what_ ," he snapped.

Gabriel made a scene of shivering as he pulled his blankets tighter around him, but Dean didn't miss the smirk he was trying to fight. "Cassie, of course." Dean's expression darkened as the guy took a loud sip of his drink. Then he arched brown brows at him as he continued, his tone annoyingly chastising, "He's not going to figure it out before tomorrow."

Dean flexed his jaw. "There's nothin' to _figure_ out."

The guy chuckled, and Dean felt the urge to pummel the stupid grin off his face. "If you say so..."

Dean stood up at that. He didn't need to listen to other people telling him how he did or didn't feel about Cas. They didn't know shit about _any_ of that.

He began to stride towards the kitchen. They didn't know him, or what kind of messed up he was inside, how he couldn't seem to like someone more than a few weeks, months, if he was lucky. How it _always_ went away, and how many people he'd hurt. They didn't know how many girls he had back at home who might show up randomly, naked under their jacket, just to surprise him late at night. They didn't know how much it bothered him that Cas liked him so much, and he wanted to like him back too. Because he did, hell, more than he'd wanted to like anyone.

"Are you all right?"

Dean looked up, focusing on the guy right in front of him. Cas. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, m'good," he grunted. He leaned on his shoulder in the doorway. Cas wore a nicely fit, white thermal shirt and black sweatpants, his dark hair sticking up extra at that moment, all of it somehow making his serious blue eyes look even more striking.

"Hot chocolate not good?"

"Huh?" Dean shook himself mentally. "Oh no, it's good. Thanks." He took a sip of the forgotten drink and then gave him a closed-mouth smile to add to the validity.

Cas nodded knowingly. "Gabe getting to you?"

Dean pulled his lips to the side and puffed out a breath. "What? No, he's fine, just thought I'd see if I could help in here." Dark blue eyes studied him, and he resisted fidgeting.

"You want to help me... bake a pie?"

Dean shrugged. "Why not?" Then he did move away some, into the kitchen and towards the counter when Cas's gaze only intensified. He glanced over the neatly lined up ingredients with a sniff. "So, cherry pie, huh?"

"Yes." There was a pause. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Dean gave a slight shrug. "Sam's my brother, not yours, Cas," he said flippantly as he set his mug down. Then he sighed and finally looked back over. He held in a grimace as he met quiet blue eyes, and he said gruffly, "Come here."

Cas walked over to him, stopping way too close so that Dean felt like he might go cross-eyed, and Dean cupped the back of his neck to pull him even closer. He tilted his head down some, until his lips were hovering just over his. "I'm sorry too, I was really looking forward to that." He watched up close as a small smile crawled up Cas's mouth.

"You were?"

Dean bit down on his lower lip to fight an answering smile. "Yeah, we still got tonight though, don't we?"

Cas nodded just barely, and then Dean wet his lips, tasting sugar still on them. He held himself back from meeting the guy's mouth with his own, just barely. "You know, I was thinkin'," he said, his low voice almost a whisper, uncertainty slowing his words, "maybe I could come visit you next time I'm in New York. I mean, if that's okay with you."

Cas's smile returned, the cute expression kicking Dean squarely in the stomach. "I'd really like that, Dean."

Dean huffed a small breath, and then he was being kissed. He wrapped his arms around the guy, pulling him closer, not caring when he felt flour-covered hands grab onto him.


	17. Chapter 17

“Okay, Simon says, you have to do everything that starts with Lucifer says.”

Dean watched as Gabriel laughed giddily, Michael grinned somewhat coolly, and Cas’s shoulders slouched.

The dark blond, who Dean _loathed_ , crossed his arms and stretched his upper body slightly to the right as he appeared to think deeply. “Lucifer says... hop on one foot in clockwise circles.”

“You’re such a sadist,” Michael mumbled as he began to hop in circles with surprising adeptness, considering Dean had seen him maybe a half hour before drinking straight from a bottle of vodka.

“Maybe we should play...”

Dean took a sip from his drink that smelled like rum, so it was probably rum. He ignored Sam by his side to watch over the rim of his glass as the three drunk brothers attempted to do what the guy had said. “Nah, I’m good here.” He scratched idly behind Crowley’s ear as he rested his little furry body completely against the side of his leg.

“Careful, watch out for little Cassy, _Gabe_.”

Gabe began to laugh at that and lost his balance, and as he tumbled to the ground he managed to glance the side of his head off the leg of a nearby end table. “ _Shit_.”

“Luc seems pretty comfortable inflicting pain on his brothers,” Dean said, conversationally, and he took another sip as he watched somewhat amused as Cas continued to slow his jumps, focusing on not trampling a groaning Gabe. “He’d make a good criminal.”

“Lucifer says stop.” Cas and Michael stopped with audible sighs. “All right, Luci says run outside and roll in the snow.”

Dean frowned. He started to stand, but Cas stopped dead at the door, letting Michael run out ahead of him. He looked at Lucifer expectantly, but then Michael darted back in, snow free but for the pants of his legs, clearly having caught the name change just in time.

“You _bastard_ ,” Michael spat breathlessly, and Lucifer began to laugh in response.

“So just say it.”

Dean turned his head slowly, and when he met his brother’s unhappy gaze he arched blond brows expectantly. “You _know_... what I know.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean didn’t move an inch. His younger brother laughed then with a shake of his head, his cheeks too red, showing how much he’d had to drink already. “Whatever, Dean.”

Dean reached out, grabbing his brother’s arm before he could leave. He leaned in closer, the room louder once more as Lucifer had them doing push-ups. “I know about Lucifer, Sammy,” he said, lowly, scowling, “Michael told me _everything_ , and I found your files too.”

Sam opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but then his gaze dropped to his glass, and he exhaled like he’d already given up somehow. He wet his lips hesitantly. “Dean... can’t you just, I don’t know, leave this? You know. I know... so what? Luc—you don’t know how he was raised, it was bad, like, _really_ bad, but he’s changed. People _can_ change. He doesn’t do that stuff anymore.” He looked up, shooting Dean his best kicked-puppy-dog expression. “Can you do this for me, just this once?”

Dean clenched his jaw, and he wanted to tell Sam he was wrong, that he was _laughably_ wrong, and naive, and _all_ that shit, and that _no_ he sure as _hell_ couldn’t do that for him. He took another drink instead, and he gave his own defeated sigh. “Fine, but you _better_ be right, ‘cause I’m gonna be watchin’ him, Sammy. I mean it.”

Dean practically felt his brother’s huge ass grin, so he scowled stubbornly. He was too fuckin’ soft. He shook his head in disgust, then tipped his glass up to finish off his drink, focusing on the distracting burn.

“Thank you, Dean. I mean it, this means a _lot_ to me.”

Dean gave a shrug as he lowered the empty cup, ignoring the part of him that always seemed to turn to complete mush when he made his little brother happy, the little, manipulative bastard. “I’m gonna teach Crowley to bite his balls off if he steps _one_ foot outta line.”

“Fair enough,” Sam said quickly.

Crowley yawned by Dean’s side, and gave the underside of his wrist a lick. “Bad dog,” Dean mumbled, with the smallest smile, as he wondered idly if Cas liked Rottweilers. Maybe he could get Cas a puppy when he went to visit him in a couple months, although, he’d probably need to plan a longer stay if so, so he could make sure he didn’t do something crazy like let the furry beast sleep in his bed. That wouldn’t—

“You’re out, Cas.”

Dean glanced up at that to see Castiel limping over towards him. He stopped directly in front of him, and Dean had to crane his head back to meet the guy’s serious blue eyes. “Ya hurt?”

“I’ll be fine tomorrow,” Cas said with a wince, then almost shyly, “would you like to join me in the hot tub, Dean?”

Dean raised his brows, his chin doing the opposite so his mouth was hanging open dumbly. “Huh?”

“We have a hot tub on the back deck,” Sam said by his side, an obvious smile in his voice that annoyed Dean almost instantly—unfortunately he was still just staring at Cas. “You guys go on out, and I’ll get some drinks for you.”

Dean blinked a few times as dark blue eyes stared down at him expectantly for some reason—“ _Oh_.” Dean hopped up, and he felt heat rush up the back of his neck, so he rubbed at the hot skin roughly. “Yeah, yeah, okay, thanks, Sammy, sounds great,” he mumbled.

* * *

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he slid down into steaming hot water. “Holy _shit_ ,” he cursed, grimacing as he held himself stiffly in place for a few beats until he could start to breathe again.

Deep blue lights lit the bottom of the hot tub, and a waterfall broke the smooth surface, causing foamy bubbles to form in its wake. Muted laughter and music sounded inside the house, the outside silent but for the sound of water.

“Are you too hot?”

“Hm?” Dean glanced over, and he met Cas’s gaze over a small waterfall. He swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. Cas was smiling at him tentatively, and hell if he didn’t want to return it for no apparent reason. What was wrong with him? He’d never felt so flustered around someone he wanted to fuck. Though, to be fair, he wanted to do a lot more than just that with Cas. Hell, he’d just thought about buying him a _puppy_.

“Would you like me to turn the temperature down?”

Dean widened his green eyes in confusion, but then his mind finally kicked in for him, and he spoke up quickly. “No, no it’s good. Just feel like all my little guys are being boiled up is all.”

Cas didn’t laugh, dark brows furrowed. “That is bad.”

Dean’s exposed chest shook silently, and he grinned crookedly at the guy. “Probably so, but it’s not like you could do much with ‘em.” He winked.

Castiel stared at him, and his expression grew notably more somber. “You want children, Dean?”

Dean choked on his own spit at the unexpected question. “What? No, no—I mean, I, why the _hell_ would you think _that_?”

The dark-haired man blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dean grimaced as he slid through the waterfall to get closer to the guy. Cas shifted over some to let him get clear of the falling water, and then they sat side-by-side in the near darkness. The sandy blond reached an arm around the guy, resting it casually on the rim of the hot tub, his side snug against Cas’s. He glanced up at the sky. “Lotta stars out here.”

“I’ll assume you mean they’re more visible.”

Dean grinned faintly. “Good man, Cas.” Then he breathed in deeply, enjoying the simple feeling of Cas by his side. It was good. He liked it. There was no pressure, it just felt natural.

“Dean...”

Dean hummed distractedly. “Hm?”

“Do you work out a lot?”

Dean blinked, and he glanced down at the guy out of the corner of his vision. “You tryin’ to pick me up?”

Cas quirked a small smile that could only be described as pleased. “Is that how I would do it?”

Dean grinned slyly. “It’s a start... keep goin’.”

Cas nodded with a serious clearing of his throat. “I’ve noticed you eat a lot of pie for someone with such a flat stomach.”

Dean started laughing at that, the sound throaty. “Hey now.” He dipped his chin down to catch curled up lips with his own. Then he found himself nuzzling against the guy’s rough cheek, his free hand trailing gently down tone abs, cool knuckles over hot skin, as he tried to get even closer. “Is this okay?” he murmured roughly.

Cas nodded jerkily, and his breath audibly caught when Dean slipped his fingertips just inside the waist of his shorts. “Dean I—could, could we go to your bed?”

Dean grinned, feeling the alcohol he’d drank fully. “Or we could just stay here...” Then he began to nibble on the side of Cas’s neck as he waited for a response, his hand staying hooked just inside the guy’s shorts.

“I think...” Cas’s low voice grew impossibly rougher, “that would be a bad idea. Someone might come out, and I’d like to do other things with you.”

Dean paused at that, his interest thoroughly peaked.

“Things that would be significantly better in a bed,” was said with finality.

* * *

Dean was on his back.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, it's been so long, but here I am, finishing this—because I can't stand to leave a story unfinished. I’m thinking 2-3 more chapters until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Dean was on his back. His shirt was on the floor by the door where Cas had pulled it off. And his pants, that was a little cloudy, but they weren't on him anymore, he knew that much. Cool sheets hugged his back and legs, only a pair of black boxers keeping him from being au naturel. He was content to lie there for the moment, with Cas standing at his feet, awkwardly shifting, looking kinda beautiful. "You gonna join me anytime soon?"

Cas nodded just barely, dark blue eyes piercing and his solid jaw setting in a determined way that Dean found oddly endearing, and the dirty blond wondered when he'd become such a sap. If it was something that had been creeping up on him the past few years, or if it had been just since his time stuck in the blasted cabin. He'd like to think the first, made it seem less important... but he'd only noticed it recently. Since Cas.

He watched up through glazed green eyes as said brunet began to slowly draw his shirt up past his stomach and chest, and then over his head, looking like a model... well, a reluctant one at least. He scrubbed a hand roughly through his pitch black hair, not bothering to smooth it back down afterward, and Dean felt a smile cock up one corner of his mouth even as his lower body responded eagerly. No wonder his hair was always a mess...

"Should I remove these myself?"

Green eyes blinked slowly, then did their best to open more, blond brows pulling up to try to help the cause. "Hm?"

The dark-haired guy looked down at his own pants, and Dean found his eyes following the same path. "Should I remove them, or would you like to do it? I don't want to interfere with any foreplay you might require."

Dean blinked again. What the—"Cas," he said with a laugh, and he pushed himself back up to sit, his scattered thoughts diffusing so he could focus. He motioned towards himself. "Come'ere."

The dark-haired guy took a step forward hesitantly, and Dean hooked his index inside said pants and tugged him the rest of the way until he was snug between his legs. "Now"—he pressed his lips gently to exposed abs, and felt the guy suck in a sharp breath—"relax..." he murmured, working his mouth carefully along taut muscles he could just make out in the dark room. "Gonna miss you when we leave here..." he let slip out between alcohol-loosed lips as blood began to race through his veins, and his hand found buttoned pants. Maybe he did like the foreplay, because he was getting _really_ worked up, and they hadn't even done anything yet.

"I want to move to Lebanon, Dean."

"Why would ya wanna do that?" Dean mumbled distractedly as he began to undo the guy's pants, having to focus way too hard on the simple task. Maybe he'd drank a little too much, but what was new. "Middle East is hot as balls."

"I mean Kansas, Dean. Where you are."

Dean stopped just as he'd accomplished exposing white boxers, and he looked up, wide-eyed and in shock. "You wanna move there 'cause of me?" he asked, his rough voice not much better than a low rumble. "Or you got some other reason?"

Somehow the second option made Dean's jaw flex, even if he had been the one to offer it, and he felt himself getting angry for no reason when Cas didn't answer him right away. "Don't be stupid, Cas. There's nothin' in Lebanon worth movin' for."

"You're wrong, Dean," was said firmly, and Dean looked away, feeling suddenly wide the fuck awake. "I've never felt the way I do towards you."

And Dean had heard it before. He'd heard it in many different voices, in slightly different ways, but he'd fucking heard it too many times, and it always ended the same way. Something heavy felt like it dropped into the pit of his stomach, which was admittedly new, and the dirty blond wished he'd never heard it from Cas. Wished he'd just take it back. But he didn't, because the world had it out for Dean. "No, you're wrong, Cas," he croaked, he cleared his throat. "You're wrong about me—whatever you think I am, whatever you think _this_ is—you're just plain wrong."

Cas said nothing, just stood there looking all too aware and knowing about everything, so Dean nudged him back so he could stand. He needed some space. "What if I don't want you to move near me?" he asked, his voice gruff and suddenly harsh.

"Then I won't," the guy said, and he sighed, looking disappointed, but Dean couldn't tell if it was with him or himself. "I'm sorry, Dean, I shouldn't have said anything."

"Damn _straight_ ," Dean said a little too forcefully, and he flexed his jaw, feeling even worse when Cas's chin dipped at it. He grasped the back of his neck roughly. "Listen, Cas, I like you. I do. But we gotta take this slow, I'm not good at relationships. Hell, only people I'm close to are either dead, Sam, and now you."

The dark-haired guy looked back up at that, his expression shifting to something that looked a lot like determination, and made Dean's heart jump around funny in his chest. "I am sorry. I can take _this_ slow," he said, emphasizing the 'this' so much, Dean expected air quotes. "I promise."

Dean huffed a held breath through his nostrils and nodded as he sucked on his teeth. "All right then," he said shortly, feeling awkward as hell, like he should apologize too. "Thanks, Cas," he mumbled instead as his mood dipped for some reason. Then he looked over at the guy, still unsure. "So you wanna still stay tonight?" he asked.

Castiel nodded back. "I would like that. I believe we're all leaving in the morning."

Dean hmph'd, the thought of finally leaving not making him as happy as he'd like. "Yeah... I'll believe that when I see it," he said grumpily. Then he exhaled around a soft throat clearing as he walked back to the bed, climbing in on his side and covering up. He felt the bed dip behind him as Cas climbed in too, and he wanted to roll over and make nice, kiss and whatever else the guy would allow... but just the thought of trying it made him feel like a huge fucking hypocrite. He shifted some, trying to get comfortable. "Night, Cas," he husked.

"Goodnight, Dean."

* * *

“God Almighty and Heaven above," Gabriel crooned, "man am I happy to get out of this hell hole!"

"Yes, thank you for coming, Gabe," Lucifer said dryly, his arm casually hooked around Sam's waist. Michael was already sitting inside a blacked out Cadillac SUV, with a pair of dark sunglasses on that couldn't quite hide the angry purple and blue skin around his swollen left eye. He'd been blissfully silent the little bit Dean had seen him that morning.

Lucifer'd _somehow_ gotten someone to come in the middle of the night and treat the roads all the way down. Sam had insisted to everyone it wasn't because they weren't welcome anymore and to feel free to leave whenever.

Gabe laughed and pulled the blond and Sam into an uncomfortable looking hug. "Ah, take good care of him, Sammy. Just remember, you're bigger than him."

Dean frowned at that, and then Gabe was coming at him with outstretched arms. " _Deano_ ," he exclaimed, hugging him and relaxing into it despite Dean stiffening like a board, then he whispered, "make sure you contact me _first_ when you two set a date."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Gabe pulled back and smacked him on the cheek like he was a little kid before walking off happily.

Then there was Cas. The dark-haired guy walked out of the house, his tan trench coat, black dress pants and shoes once more on, giving Dean a bad case of déjà vu. He settled a hand on Sam's shoulder, saying something quiet and serious-looking to him that Dean couldn't quite make out despite straining his hearing. Then Lucifer pulled him into a hug, that made Dean cringe on Cas's behalf.

Blue eyes turned to him, and Dean tried to swallow but just managed to choke a little on his own spit. The black-haired guy walked forward, the skin under his eyes dark, like he hadn't slept well. He smiled at Dean, but it seemed more resigned than anything to the blond. "Goodbye, Dean, it was good to meet you."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but he had nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

The guy surprised him then as he reached one arm out and gave him a casual hug. Dean still didn't respond. Then the guy turned and walked off, and Dean blinked rapidly, his mouth still agape as he struggled. He watched Cas climb into the front seat, and he managed a weak, "See ya, Cas."

Cas gave a wave and shut the door, the heavy sound of it making Dean's face twitch. And then Dean was watching the SUV drive away.


End file.
